


The Field of Reeds

by Persipnei



Series: night holds what day has lost [2]
Category: Night at the Museum (Movies), The Pacific (TV)
Genre: (Tintin who? Exactly.), (there's a mummy that comes back to life so...), Action/Adventure, Alternative Universe - The Mummy, Includes Footnotes, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reporter Eugene Sledge, Romantic Comedy, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persipnei/pseuds/Persipnei
Summary: Eugene strode across the lobby and as soon as he reached him, he asked briskly: “What are you doing here?”The older man widened his eyes and observed his features. His cheeks were blushed and so were the tips of his ears; ashamed and angry. Almost offended by his presence. Merriell licked his lips and blinked rapidly. He opened his mouth, unable to find his voice. He was there, for fuck's sake. He was there and if he only extended his hand, he would be able to touch him. If he leaned forward, he would be able to smell his cologne and...Oh, fuck.Eugene raised his eyebrows and nodded, nervously, urging him to answer. Merriell looked down and slid his hand inside his breast pocket and this time took the little note with the directions to the hotel, the name of the reporter and the time they were supposed to meet in the lobby. He snatched the piece of paper from his hand. Eugene read the note and then stepped back. He exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead before he cursed: “Goddamnit.”OREugene's stressful adventure in Egypt involving a regretful Cajun, a smug relic hunter and a clueless mummy.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Series: night holds what day has lost [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665646
Comments: 61
Kudos: 42





	1. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eugene strode across the lobby and as soon as he reached him, he asked briskly: “What are you doing here?”  
> The older man widened his eyes and observed his features. His cheeks were blushed and so were the tips of his ears; ashamed and angry. Almost offended by his presence. Merriell licked his lips and blinked rapidly. He opened his mouth, unable to find his voice. He was there, for fuck's sake. He was there and if he only extended his hand, he would be able to touch him. If he leaned forward, he would be able to smell his cologne and... _Oh, fuck_.  
> Eugene raised his eyebrows and nodded, nervously, urging him to answer. Merriell looked down and slid his hand inside his breast pocket and this time took the little note with the directions to the hotel, the name of the reporter and the time they were supposed to meet in the lobby. He snatched the piece of paper from his hand. Eugene read the note and then stepped back. He exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead before he cursed: “Goddamnit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!**  
> 
> 
> I’m **VERY** happy to be able to share this story at last. I’ve been planning it for so long and I _finally_ get to write the part where both worlds collide! Sadly, in this first chapter, we don’t get to see Ahk yet. My idea was to end the first chapter with him, but it was getting a bit too long, so I decided to split it in two. 
> 
> And maybe we don’t see Ahk yet, but we get to find out a bit of Snafu’s life until then and Eugene’s new purpose in life! I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Snaf roleplays in this first chapter because I like Louis’ glasses and aesthetic even if I never watched Papillon. It’s a cool look, alright? And he had to trick someone. He’s allowed to be a little scoundrel here and there!!!
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think ;)
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : Ahkmenrah is part of the Night at the Museum movies/books. Those belong to 20th Century Fox, Milan Trenc and Leslie Goldman. This story is for entertainment only and sure as heck I don't make any profit out of it. The characters of Ahkmenrah, Kahmunrah, Merenkahre and Shepseheret don't belong to me.  
>  **Disclaimer II** : The characters of Eugene and Snafu are based on their fictional representation from the TV show. I mean no disrespect to the real veterans.

**CAIRO, MARCH 1952**

After spending _years_ away from home during the war, Merriell promised himself that he would never leave New Orleans again.

Under the heavy rain and stuck in a foxhole, practically drowing in mud and blood, he thought about every single memory he had related to the city. The little cabin in the bayou where he grew up, with greasy corners and pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. The bench where he used to spend long afternoons with Roe, nibbling their nails because they couldn't afford going to the movies. The feeling of Lou's hand in his own when her cousin decided to spend the little money he saved on her and bought her some chocolates. The alleys where he stole many kisses from those kids that belonged to a complete different world and yet wanted to taste the eagerness and passion of someone that while having their very same age, got to experience way more than they ever would.

Perhaps, what he truly meant with that oath was not so related to the city itself but with the feeling of safety. He would never long for peace again. He wouldn't have to worry about his life being interrupted again. He closed his eyes and thought about New Orleans, knowing he wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night, with bombs falling from the sky or a hidden enemy, willing to kill him just to get back home as soon as possible.

Either the feeling of safety or the memories that blended with the streets of New Orleans, Merriell eventually wanted something different. He liked to claim that he was a man with little needs. That he could be pleased with barely nothing. That having a roof over his head and enough money in his pocket to survive the day would be enough for him. But he lied. There was something missing. _Someone_. And that absence defined his life entirely. _Yes, you have this, but you don't have him to share it with_ or _You know you'd be happier if he was here and yet you decided to deny yourself what you truly wanted_.

Merriell tried not to think about that name anymore, let alone mentioning it to anyone. Merriell distracted himself, allowing the memory of a pale face and doubtful eyes to blur. It came back at night, when the hair was bright red behind his eyelids. But if he could fight battles with bulletholes in his body, he could deal with the discomfort of living a very boring life with the burden of melancholy.

Or so he thought until he spoke with Bill Bowers a couple of months ago.

Bill was good friends with Romie, Lou's husband. He told him, during Christmas, about some story related to Cairo, Egypt. Turns out there was a newspaper in Philadelphia that was searching for a man with “military experience and fluent French” to act as the bodyguard of some reporter that was covering a story about tomb robbers. In the kitchen, Bill told him that they paid the expenses of the trip and that the money was truly worth giving it a thought. When Merriell asked why he didn't accept the offer if it was that much money, he smirked and said that there was no way Minnie would let him go anywhere now that she was expecting their second child.

As soon as he saw the amount of money written on a paper along with a name and a phone number, Merriell didn't think he had an option. He could either stay and keep working at the sawmill for a miserable salary, or go on an adventure and earn enough money to finally buy himself a little house where he could, _maybe_ , start a family.

That is, if he ever got to trick someone into loving him and deciding that sharing the rest of their days with him was a good idea. He turned thirty-one years old a couple of months ago. He wanted a family. He wanted a partner. He wanted the intimacy of a relationship; being kissed late at night and early in the morning. Sit down on his couch, listening to the one he loved read to him and feel fingers on his hair, massaging his scalp and soothing any worry he ever had with tenderness. He was tired of having sex with those that had little fragments of Eugene's personality or looks, hoping that one of them could finally become a good substitute.

He had to forget him. It's been six years since he left him on that train. It was about damn time.

So he decided to do it, hoping it would finally help him to move on, and called the newspaper. At first they told him that he would meet David Webster in Cairo in February. But a couple of days before he took the train to Georgia, fifty Egyptian officers were killed by British soldiers[1]. Merriell didn't know the details, but the following day, he was called and told that the hotel where he was supposed to stay at during their adventure was reduced to ashes[2]. That they would reschedule and try next month.

Lou suggested that maybe it was a sign for him to stay in New Orleans. That _only an idiot would go to a country that was about to start a revolution_. She was clearly anxious about him leaving, since the last time he did, he spent five years away from home with no guarantees of coming back. Now, she was no longer fifteen or alone as she was back in 1941. Merriell promised to be back in less than a month and with plenty of money to spend. And it was not like he was going to South Korea[3] and get involved in yet another fucking war.

He assumed he convinced her because before leaving —this time for good— she gave him a couple of linen suits that would help him to look professional without suffocating and two books: _Death comes as the End_ and _Death on the Nile_. Lou knew well that her cousin was obsessed with the Queen of Crime. That he found entertainment in trying to figure out the mysteries she wrote about. _Might make you look like you did some research for your job_ , she shrugged with a funny smirk. He was well aware that she was teasing him. It was payback for all those times he called her a silly nickname.

The trip was a nightmare. He still got terribly seasick. Something his brothers in arms found tremendously funny because as soon as he set a foot on a ship, he became pale and started retching. The only one who ever showed some compassion was Eugene. Burgie, on the other hand, smirked and crossed his arms, hushing the other members of the company but other than that, he didn't do much. And then he puffed his chest when he was called noble and fair. He was a dickhead very much like he was but simply better at hiding it. Merriell tried to focus as much as he could on his reading during that never-ending week until he arrived to Cairo. And for fuck's sake, the sight of the country was beautiful. He almost felt tempted to kiss the ground under his feet.

Instead, he decided to meet the reporter in the hotel and hope they won't burn this one to the ground.

When he navigated around the streets of Cairo, he felt surprised. It was somehow similar to the streets of New Orleans; just as busy and lively. There were young men sitting under palm trees, playing chess or reading books. The girls had their arms linked and walked and crossed the streets as their floral skirts brushed their shins and the air stroked their dark curls. He surely didn't know what to expect, but he allowed his own assumptions to forewarn him about something that didn't exist. The very same happened in China, when they were forced to stay there for six months. The world is bastly different from what you expect it to be, that was a lesson he should have learned, by now.

He even turned around and smiled when he noticed one of those girls looked at him, both with interest and entertainment. He tilted his hat and grinned. Maybe Lou tailored him some nice suits hoping that he would find enough time flirt. When he grew frustrated, she always gave him the very same advice: _find someone. A woman, a man. Anyone who can deal with your bullshit, Merry_. And while others didn't need love to improve their lives, Lou was well aware of the necessity her cousin had to love others. How it was mandatory for him to look after someone and obtain kindness from them. Spending six years having relationships that barely lasted a couple of months did nothing for someone like Merriell. It was love he was after, not lust.

He asked for some directions to the ones he found more beautiful and even if he didn't need them since he had all the information he needed, it wasn't so bad to get used to the language. They spoke French to the tourists, and while they noticed he had a strange accent, they could communicate just fine and asked questions about where he was from. When he said that he was from Louisiana, some of them grew interested and he gladly answered their questions, obtaining smiles and if he was lucky, they bit their lip, noticing the flirtatious tone on his voice and appreciating it.

Merriell always enjoyed the process of seduction. The only way to soothe his fear of being rejected; explicitly obtain their approval.

When he was way too close to the hotel to ask for more directions, he removed his hat and brushed his hair with a comb, checking his reflection on a small mirror that he carried in his pocket. He only wanted to give a good impression because he could always be sent back home penniless. He needed this to take that first step towards a life that has been waiting for him six years.

He mentioned his trip to Roe before he left. The younger man seemed to recognize the name of the reporter. _David Webster was also in Easy Company_ , he informed him. When Merriell asked him how was he like, Roe merely replied: _He went to Harvard, I think_. As someone who barely had an education, that put him in an uncomfortable position. A journalist is supposed to know a little bit about everything and plenty about about what he was writing. Merriell _hated_ presumptuous people so, with some luck, a first good impression will be enough to keep Webster from being an arrogant asshole.

He slid the small comb and mirror in the breast pocket and took a deep breath. He rolled his shoulders and stepped inside of the building. The lobby of hotel was not very crowded. There were people walking around, checking in and out. The fact that they had to delay his trip made him think that situation would be more choatic, but there was a a lingering tension in the air. Like Egypt seemed to be a country that was about to change. He looked around and tried to spot Webster among the people there. He knew he was tall, rather pale, with dark hair and blue eyes. But even if he had a clear description in mind, his eyes were drawn to the shade of red in the lobby. Something in the back of his mind told him to keep looking for him.

 _It's what you truly want_ , the voice muttered at night. _You could lack anything else, and you'd still have him. Like you used to. No bed, no water, no food. But you still had the boy and it was enough of a reason to carry on_.

Merriell's eyes were hungry for the sight of him. The last time he saw him, he was so calm, silently leaning against the window of the train. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed, his delicate hair gracefully resting over his forehead. And now, Eugene was standing close to a column of the lobby, picking on his nails, looking around with eager eyes, clearly waiting for someone. His hair was a little longer than it was when he left him, his jaw slightly less sharp, as he managed to put on the weight they lost during the war. He was no longer starving or dehydrated. He looked a little older, less childish. Every single month of November, Merriell remembered, on the fourth, that Eugene was a year older. Now, he was twenty-nine. A grown man, no longer the young boy Merriell always felt responsible for. Funny how he was willing to pretend that his intention was to shield him from tragedy when what he truly wanted was to caress his heart with his fingertips. Hopefully get him to love him back.

As Eugene did once, before he abandoned him.

_You missed six years of his life. Why would you do that?_

Merriell blinked, his eyes itched. He cleared his throat and felt like he was nailed to the ground. That was the very first time he saw Eugene wearing civilian clothes. The collar of his shirt brought attention to his neck. His pale neck that Merriell used to kiss and breathe against, just to get to see him tremble or hear him sigh. His forearms were exposed as the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. The trousers had a similar shade to their old uniform, but he added some suspenders to keep them up and secured around his waist.

Eugene stood over his tiptoes and finally turned his head towards the door. And that was when he saw him. Merriell's body had a brutal reaction after seeing Eugene looking back at him and the expression on his face. He felt dizzy with shame. Nauseous with guilt. Lightheaded with delight. All at once and it was a miracle that his knees didn't fail him while standing there, paralyzed and with his hands shaking, almost dropping the suitcase he carried. His heartbeat started to speed up and he could feel it right against the mirror through the light fabric of his shirt and the linen of his jacket. He scratched the back of his neck and his skin was _soaked_.

Eugene blinked and he stepped forward before he stopped right on his tracks. He pressed his lips and looked around, turning to leave. But then he stopped a second time. He was waiting for someone, he couldn't leave. He danced between dignity and curiosity: either leave and ignore this ever happened or find out why on Earth was he in Egypt, from all the countries in the world.

Merriell was still trying to keep his heart under control, force his legs to move. He wiped his right hand over his chest and held his suitcase tighter, until his knuckles turned white. Then, he soldiered on, taking a step after step, not thinking about anything. If he throws up in the middle of the lobby, Webster could assume that he arrived to the job drunk. And then he will call the newspaper and he won't get shit out of this. But why would Eugene be there, in Cairo? That train he left him on surely couldn't cross the ocean.

Eugene strode across the lobby and as soon as he reached him, he asked briskly: “What are you doing here?”

The older man widened his eyes and observed his features. His cheeks were blushed and so were the tips of his ears; ashamed and angry. Almost offended by his presence. Merriell licked his lips and blinked rapidly. He opened his mouth, unable to find his voice. He was there, for fuck's sake. He was there and if he only extended his hand, he would be able to touch him. If he leaned forward, he would be able to smell his cologne and... _Oh, fuck_.

Eugene raised his eyebrows and nodded, nervously, urging him to answer. Merriell looked down and slid his hand inside his breast pocket and this time took the little note with the directions to the hotel, the name of the reporter and the time they were supposed to meet in the lobby. He snatched the piece of paper from his hand. Eugene read the note and then stepped back. He exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead before he cursed: “ _Goddamnit_.”

“I don't know the guy.” Merriell felt the need to say it. Like he had to make sure to keep Eugene from thinking that he had something _personal_ with Webster. “ _Yet_.”

He should try to find him, but he couldn't stop looking at the redhead. He even thought about dropping his suitcase, but the reminder that he carried a gun among his clothes and those two novels, kept him from doing such. He slowly lowered it to the ground until he could stand properly once again. From close, he could see all the details on his face. Time barely faded Eugene's memory, as it always came back when he less expected it. He remembered his teeth when he smiled and how he would look at him, far from amused, when Merriell told him yet another of his tasteless jokes. He was there. After six years, he was there and he wanted to feel his skin again. When he left him, he regretted doing it without a kiss and a touch. The fact they were on the train forced him to step away from him without nothing. Not a single thing to warm his lips or fingers, to let him understand that was the end of their short-lived relationship.

“No. Not yet. _Never_.” Eugene huffed and shook his head. He cursed under his breath and he doubted he ever heard him do that so often — _twice_ so far. “He's not here.”

“Why not?” Merriell asked, still distracted and struggling with his own heart and nerves.

“Because _I_ am here.” Eugene explained. When the other man kept looking at him, in silence, Eugene looked away and added, visibly exasperated: “He moved to California a couple of weeks ago. He quit his job.”

“...Why?” he could only repeat, barely processing the explanation. So no Webster, only Eugene.

“That's none of your business.” he firmly replied. “Why are _you_ here?” Eugene would have found a way to convince the newspaper to find someone else to avoid this terrible meeting.

“Bowers' missus is pregnant.” he whispered, as he finally exhaled. Fuck, he was _truly_ there. He looked good. He looked healthy, even if frustrated and angry. Perhaps he was entranced. Perhaps he didn't even know what he was saying or what they were really talking about. Eugene was there. In front of him, again, far from home.

 _You didn't get to be with him back home because you didn't want to. Because you left him_.

“That's just great. Wonderful.” Eugene rubbed his forehead and kept himself from cursing a third time. “Of course something like this would happen.” Finally he gets to convince the editor-in-chief to let him fill in Webster's place, since he knew the story and bumped into Fredericks' questionable practices before and _this_ happens. Who would want to find their former _lover_ —or whatever they were, maybe it didn't even have a name considering how it ended— was involved in their greatest professional opportunity? “ _Just my luck_.”

And then Merriell couldn't help it anymore. Because it was that easy and because he was there, right in front of him, he merely extended his hand and caressed Eugene's cheek with his fingertips.

It barely took him a couple of seconds to react. It was almost like Merriell smeared dirt over his cheek as he did in the past, just to mess with his overly proper look and so he would get used to the filth of war before it would properly come. Like when he took him to clean drums. Eugene slapped his hand away from his face and looked around once again, swallowing thickly. “Don't do that.” By the way his jaw tensed and how he was holding himself back, Merriell understood that his touch, alone, was _repulsive_ to Eugene.

Who could blame him? He abandoned him. But he couldn't help it. God, he must have missed him like a fool if he reacted like that after barely exchanging a few words with him.

He licked his lips and continued to stare at him. He looked beautiful. He looked so different and yet so similar and Merriell wished he could go back in time. Why the fuck did he leave him?

 _Because you were scared. Because you weren't enough_.

“ _Eugene_.” he whispered with a trembling voice.

The redhead shivered but shook his head, stubbornly. Whatever that they had, was dead and buried. Eugene promised himself many things after the war. When he finally got back on his feet, he forbid himself from ever looking back and think about everything he could have had. Merriell decided to leave and he had to accept it. He was not a dog that needed a master to have a purpose in life. He was a man with firm convictions and those didn't accept him back into his life anymore.

“I'm leaving.” He didn't want to spend time around him. He didn't want to talk to him. He didn't even want to think about him. He was no one. Just a sour memory of what could have been. All that he obtained from war were nightmares and a poor physical reaction while feeling the weight of a fire weapon in his hand. No more than that.

“You are a reporter.” Merriell managed to blurt out. Eugene returned him the note, barely allowing their hands to touch as he shook his head. “I thought you'd st—”

“You thought and you were wrong.” Eugene shrugged, turning around and starting to walk. Merriell picked his suitcase and grabbed his arm. Eugene reacted as poorly as he did when he touched his face and escaped from his touch with a sudden move. “I told you not to do that.”

He couldn't let him go, could he? God, this is why he left when he fell asleep. He couldn't resist him. Merriell will always try his best to keep himself around him. But did he deserve to be even a single second in his presence? Probably not. Still, he felt selfish. Selfish and desperate and his stomach was burning and his heart racing and sadly, after six years of separation, he was no over it. Perhaps he barely understood the situation properly, but his first reaction was to stick around. If he needed protection, it had to be because he couldn't possibly do it all by himself, right? He had to stay. Make sure he was safe. _Only that_.

This wouldn't be the first time Merriell lied to himself.

“I need the money.” That was a low blow. That was far from classy. Merriell had the habit of saving a little money. Mamaw told him not to be _wasteful_. That once it goes away, it doesn't come back. And now he didn't have her to feed him anymore. He had around six months with her after he came back from the war. But at least he could say goodbye to her. Tell her how much he loved her and appreciated everything she ever did for him.

Eugene blinked, looking conflicted for a second. Then he shrugged and mumbled: “You can stay here. I will tell them you did a great job. But I don't want to do this with you.” Eugene looked down and something pushed him to be cruel. He had to understand how hurtful it was to wake up all by himself. He never said goodbye. He never kept the promise he made. “I don't want to be around you.”

That was like being slapped across the face. When he attempted to touch him a third time, like a child fascinated by a work of art, Eugene walked away. It took him some time to react and follow him. He needed to... To do something. Apologize. Or make amends. Perhaps even explain himself. But what if he did something terrible, hoping it ends whatever that still survived during those years?

A silent farewell could never be the end of their story. Not when there was so much left to talk about.

Eugene was trying to keep his mind calm. He refused to think about him. He refused to believe that God decided to put Merriell in his life once again. What he once felt, was no longer there. Merriell had no space and no voice in his heart, neither in his head. He raised his chin and took a deep breath, far too focused in his own thoughts to notice that he was being followed —Merriell was barely gathering enough courage to stop him before he would get to the elevator— or that he was about to bump into very unpleasant company.

The main reason why he was there.

Robert Fredericks was the kind of man Eugene despised: vain, selfish, greedy and obsessed with success. Nothing was ever too much. Nothing was ever too immoral. He was far from being the first relic hunter to go to Egypt and loot as much as possible to take all the antiquities to the museums of their own country for a _fair amount_ of money. It began with the French during the very end of the 18th century with the discovery of the Rosetta Stone[4] and continued then, with the British expeditions to the different necropolis and discoveries of tombs and pyramids of Egypt.

Eugene found out that he has been studying the fourth dinasty for a while and while Kahmunrah's tomb was discovered back in 1921, no one could ever figure out where they buried his father, Merenkahre III. But he also learned how he sabotaged the honest work of archeologists and egyptologists alike and how he even threatened anyone that stood in his way.

Eugene included.

They originally gave the story to Webster for that same reason, because the other man didn't have a previous relationship with Fredericks. After confessing to Eugene the reason behind moving to California and seeing how Eugene kept the secret, Webster himself suggested Eugene to take the spot.

Fredericks smiled, feral, as he stepped out of the elevator, seeing the redhead walking towards him without noticing him. He was far from pleased about him being there, but perhaps feeling like his victory would be even greater if he got away with it right under the reporter's nose.

“Sledge, what a lovely surprise.”

Eugene frowned as soon as he saw him, not wanting to also deal with him after everything that happened. Merriell hid behind a column to observe them, already feeling jealous and anxious. The idea that maybe Eugene had been or was with someone else was closing his throat and making it harder for him to swallow.

“Sure.” Eugene was going to walk past him and step inside of the elevator. Fredericks kept him from doing such by resting a hand over the wall, standing in his way. Eugene closed his eyes and huffed. “I don't have the time to play, Fredericks.”

“You surely do if you keep chasing me around.”

“Oh, I wouldn't say that much.” he waved his hand. “Excuse me.” he stepped forward as the door of the elevator started to close. “ _What_?” he snapped, turning his head to look at him when he didn't move aside.

“Nothing, I just thought you'd like to know my latest discovery.” he hummed as he slowly got a neatly folded paper and held it with a couple of fingers, letting it dangle in front of his nose. Eugene frowned and stepped back. “Don't you want to take a look? And here I thought you'd be happy that I finally found the map to Merenkahre's tomb.” he sighed and shook his head, as if disappointed. Eugene could tell that if he was there, it was because he found out a way to the tomb. That was hardly surprising. “I guess you should also know” Fredericks clearly couldn't keep a secret. His need to brag was too powerful. “that turns out that he was buried both with his wife, Shepseheret, and his son, Ahkmenrah.”

“There's no certainty of Ahkmenrah's existence.” There were scrolls that spoke about his birth but other than that, no experts could tell, for sure, that he lived to an adult age or even less that he ruled.

“Well.” Fredericks smiled and poked the tip of Eugene's nose with one of the corners of the paper. Then he obtained the same treatment as Merriell, as the redhead slapped his hand away from his face. The tomb excavator snorted. “ _I_ do. I can't wait to see the family in the British Museum.” Kahmunrah's tomb was exposed in the Smithsonian, if he wasn't mistaken, with two of his, allegedly, four children. “I even thought, to make this expedition a little challenging for me, to give you one of the maps, since I have one to spare.” The man had the nerve to show him the second folded paper. “But I don't want to spend more time here than necessary.” Maher's government came to an end, a couple of weeks ago. Now El-Hilali's took place and he doubted it would last much more than its predecessor's. The revolution was knocking at their door and there was little King Farouk could do about it[5]. And him being British surely didn't help him when it came to earn sympathies from the locals. “ _C'est la vie_ , huh?” He was gloating, at that point. “See you later, _Tintin_.” Eugene blushed, offended, remembering the casual comment he once shared with him: _You are no more intimidating than the comics I read to my son Cecil_.

He wanted to punch him in the face _so bad_.

Fredericks walked away and Merriell hid a little more behind the column to not be spotted by either of them. He couldn't help but smile slightly when he heard Eugene cursing him — _A_ _sshole!_ — under his breath when the man could no longer hear him.

Merriell knew what he had to do. Eugene left quite clear that he didn't want to work with him. And after what he did to him —why the _fuck_ did he leave?—, he would have to find a way to show him that he was willing to do _anything_ to help him. He couldn't leave him in the country, all alone, dealing with an overly presumptuous idiot all by himself, could he? It was _not_ like now that he saw Eugene, all his wounds opened again. _Not_ that his heart was starting to beat as it used to. _Not_ like his mind was enamoured with the idea of breathing the same air as he did. Of being close. Just close and never apart again. _None of that_.

For someone who had the guts to leave a boy behind, he was miserably chasing him in hopes he will let him stay by his side even if it was only for a while. _Pathetic_.

Maybe Merriell didn't get to stay at many hotels before, in fact he only remembered the one in San Diego and Eugene slipping inside of his room, with a bashful smile on his lips and determination in his eyes. But he knew that you didn't have to check in if you only wanted to have a drink and as he followed Fredericks to the bar, he could tell that the man was a usual costumer because with only one gesture the bartender already knew what he wanted.

Now he only had to trick him and the alcohol will do the rest. Thankfully, Merriell was a gambler and he knew how to get what he wanted from others. He knew what to say and how to act. He left rich boys penniless before he even joined the Marines. This would be as easy as it could get. After looking around, he spotted some spectacles on an empty table. Someone probably forgot them and the waiters didn't have time to collect them. The tip was still over the table, too. He picked the rounded glasses and put them on, blinking a couple of times. He will end up getting a headache from this. But as long as he could help Eugene...

He put his hat on again and walked towards the bar, placing his suitcase over the stool by Fredericks' side. He undid the buttons of his jacket and sat down. He asked the bartender for his drink in French and then looked around, like he wasn't there to talk to him.

“Where's that accent from?” Fredericks asked.

Oh, he was nosey! That worked perfectly in his favor.

Merriell turned his head and took a proper look at him. Sitting down he didn't look as tall as he did, looming over Eugene. But... Fredericks was a dashing man. Merriell could tell even while looking at him through those lenses he didn't need. He peered at him and his features still composed a handsome and distinguished face. His eyes were bright blue and his nose was long and straight. Unlike Eugene's, it wasn't big enough to be distracting, but surely captured a few seconds of your attention. His jaw was well defined under his beard and his hair, dark blond, was slightly tousled and yet, it didn't give him an unkempt appearance. It merely enhanced his looks. It was absolutely ridiculous and Merriell could only imagine how much this man got away with only by his appearance. Five seconds of doubt made him think that maybe Eugene considered he was handsome too, before he got to see more of his personality. But the way he spoke to him a few minutes ago forced him to remembered that they were _clearly_ enemies. And anyone that was an asshole to Eugene would have to deal with his anger.

“Mhmm?” Merriell raised his eyebrows.

“You are not French, are you?” By the way he spoke, Merriell could tell that he learned the language in school. He still had a strong accent. He could only hope that he has never been in Louisiana. “You are a local?” Ah, clearly fucking _not_.

“I'm from Belgium.” Like _Poirot_. Like fucking _Tintin_. Yeah, he didn't get to call his boy any fucking nickname. Only he could do that.

“Where, exactly?”

Very fucking nosey, indeed.

Merriell has never been in Belgium, but he knew someone who did. “Bastogne.” he calmly answered. Sadly, he couldn't give details because when he asked Roe about what he lived there, he shook his head and replied that he didn't remember anything. Just snow and a faint laughter. _Babe_.

“What's your name?” he asked.

Merriell removed his hat, leaving it over the suitcase. His hair was still glued to his scalp, as he used way too much pomade. The only way to tame his unruly curls. He used that as a second to think. Should he give him his name? Nah, he already lied to him. _Let's continue_. As he did with the previous lie, he decided to use his family to craft a new identity. He thought about giving Roe's name, but that was, after all, also Eugene. Then he thought about Lou. “Louis.” he replied. And the surname? Mamaw's, of course. “Louis Mercier.”

“Robert Fredericks.” he introduced himself and offered his hand. Merriell shook it firmly. “Pleasure or work?”

And he just keeps going. He didn't have to do anything to keep him interested. That must be one lonely man. An asshole, but still quite lonely.

“Work.” he began. “I'm an egyptologist.” he said before he nodded at the bartender. He took a sip and the alcohol gave him a pleasing warmth that encouraged him to keep lying. “I'm after Nofret's tomb.”

“Nofret's tomb?” he repeated with a curious voice.

“She was the wife of a High Priest called Imhotep.” He was retelling the plot of one of the novels Lou gave him before leaving New Orleans. Of course he didn't know about that story unless he read the book. And by the way he looked at him, he clearly didn't. “It is said that her spirit came back from the dead to take revenge on her husband's sons.”

“Really?” Fredericks blinked.

Merriell nodded with a confident smirk: “Not many know about that story, but that's what make it far more fascinating.”

And after that, he only had to encourage him to keep drinking.

*** * ***

It was harder to find Eugene's room than it was to steal the map.

He hoped that Eugene was still there and decided to leave early in the morning. He swallowed the lump on his throat and firmly knocked at his door.

Silence.

He knocked at his door, _harder_.

If he left... If he left after he barely said a word to him, then...

Then what the fuck is he going to do? Six years more of grief? He had to do something about this. Either end it for good or apologize.

And considering his actions so far and what he was bringing to Eugene, it was clear that Merriell was desperate for an atonement. For him to smile at him again. Call him _Snaf_ and hug him.

What he wanted was to go back in time. Now that he saw him, he didn't think he could just walk away a second time.

The door opened slightly and as soon as Merriell saw Eugene, he closed his eyes and sighed, with relief. He was still there. He was completely dressed still and it didn't look like he woke him up him, but on the other hand, he was not looking too chipper about him being there.

“I told you I would leave. And I _will_.” Eugene claimed through the crack of the door.

“I know.” Merriell nodded. It was seeing him and becoming a goddamn fool. Too nervous but at the same time, too passive. Nothing came out normally anymore. He almost felt like they were back in that tent where they met and he had the need to act like an asshole to get his attention. To make sure that he would remember his name. Become part of his world and try to stay in it for as much time as possible.

“Then leave me alone.” he grumbled, closing the door again.

Merriell blocked it with his foot. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don't care about anything you might have to say.”

“I've got the map.” Merriell blurted out, pushing his body against the door. “Let me in.”

“What map?” Eugene frowned. “ _Stop it_.”

“That guy's map. Fredericks'.” Merriell explained.

“ _What_?”

He showed the folded paper through the crack of the door and before Eugene could get it, he moved his hand back. “Let me in.”

“I don't want to talk to you.” Eugene repeated vehemently.

“We don't need to talk.” And then, he widened his eyes and said, again: “ _Let me in_.”

The redhead pressed his lips again and frowned. He looked down and finally nodded, opening the door and stepping aside. Anything to get his story. If he had to let him in for a few minutes to be able to get the map, then it will be worth it.

Merriell stepped inside of Eugene's room and he quickly scanned all of his possessions. The suitcase open and the clothes neatly folded inside. The typewriter was still over the table and he had a couple of books scattered over the bed. One of them was a French dictionary. Eugene told him once that he studied the language in school, as well. But that he wasn't fluent in the slightest. He felt the delirious need to touch and caress all of his belongs. Hopefully, he could trick his miserable heart and fill his absence with things that still had his scent and were the focus of his interest.

“Give me the map.” Eugene said suddenly, extending his hand.

“No.” Merriell stepped back and moved the map further from his hand. “I have a condition.”

“You don't have the right to ask for _anything_.”

“Maybe, but it's me who has the map.” he replied. “You have to let me go with you.”

“Absolutely not.” he snorted and shook his head.

“Then I am not givin' you the map.” he shrugged.

“You _have_ to give me the map.”

“I don't have to do _shit_ if I don't wanna.” he knew he was ruffling Eugene's feathers, but he was not leaving without him. He was not going nowhere without him. He will make sure nothing happened to him or so help him God. He was willing to get selfish and unreasonable.

“How fucking dare you.” Eugene frowned and faced him. “You can't force yourself into my life and give me no choice but to accept. You can't do that!”

“Well... I am.” Merriell said. “I either stay and give you the map or I leave and take the map with me.”

“You could at least tell me where is he heading.”

“He's wasted in his bedroom, he is going _nowhere_ tonight.”

“You shouldn't have done that.” Eugene scolded him. He was told that Fredericks had a bit of a drinking problem ever since his wife died, a couple of years ago. It had nothing to do with what he was trying to prove and therefore, irrelevant. But he didn't think Merriell should exploit that even if he didn't know about it. “But...” if he gave him the map and he knew where to find him... “I could be already waiting for him before he arrives.” Eugene licked his lips and turned his head, looking at the typewriter. Right next to it, he had a camera. He could take the pictures of how he stole the relics. Back up his words with an undeniable evidence. Eugene had to be ambitious when it came to his job. It was only thing he had in his life. No other motivation than to progress and at least give himself a voice. Be able to point at and show what wasn't fair. He didn't want to see injustice and have to carry on ever again. “Give me the map.”

“ _No_.”

“You are coming with me, Shelton. Give me the goddamn map.” he ordered.

Merriell hesitated and shifted a bit. “You mean that?”

“Yes! Give me the map!” he huffed, grouchy.

The older man doubted for a couple of seconds more before he offered him the map. Eugene grabbed it eagerly and unfolded it. He stared at it and chewed her lower lip. He finally knew where Fredericks was heading. And he would be waiting for him. “... _Gotcha_.”

He saw him smiling and Merriell _knew_ he was about to make the same mistakes all over again if Eugene let him.

*** * ***

Something told him that they could have made this trip by train, but that Eugene knew well about his weakness and was ready to exploit it to punish him for leaving him behind.

Turns that the river wasn't any better than the ocean. He was trying to sleep in their cabin but the bed was awfully narrow and it kept rocking him from side to side. The open book over his face was now only a shield and a comfortable weight over his features. He tried to read a little bit, hoping it would help him but it was _useless_. He was going to throw up sooner or later. He _knew_.

Eugene, on the other hand, was _euphoric_. He was walking out and then back inside of the cabin, with no intentions to to get any sleep. At some point, Merriell even thought about throwing his book at his him, but that was before Eugene returned for the last time and sat down over his suitcase. He held his knees and rested his chin over them, observing Merriell and how pale he looked under his novel.

“How are you holding up?” he eventually asked, refusing to feel guilty about not wanting to travel by train. He was simply unable to take another with Merriell. It would be far too uncomfortable for him. Like bringing back terrible memories for no reason.

“I'm _fine_.” he mumbled.

“You don't look fine.” Did that bring him pleasure? Did that make him feel guilty?

“Well, I _am_.” But his sentences weren't very long and he surely sounded frustrated and sick.

“Right.” Eugene stood up and brushed his trousers. He approached the bottom bunk, where Merriell was resting, and took the book from his face. The man's eyes were closed and Eugene was thankful for that little detail. “It was necessary to leave as soon as possible.” Fredericks wouldn't be able to travel tonight if he was as drunk as Merriell claimed he was. He would have to travel tomorrow morning and they would be there, waiting for him in Merenkahre's tomb. Merriell only grumbled as a reply. “You said you wanted to come with me. Was it necessary to read _this_ in this very moment? You don't believe in bad omens?” He asked as soon as he turned the book. _Death on the Nile_. Eugene was not especially fond of mystery novels. “How does it happen? They drown?” Eugene saw plenty of Marines die during the war, but he always felt anxious and devastated when he saw someone choking in their own blood. How would it be to pant for air and just don't manage to get any in your lungs?

“No, no one drowns.” he wiped his forehead with the back of his back. “Two of them get shoot at and another stabbed.”

“What a marvelous cruise.”

“It's what the lovers had to do to be able to be together.”

“There's nothing more romantic than murder.”

“Look, if you are goin' to be sarcastic, I can't handle it right now. My Lulu gave it to me. I read it and enjoyed it greatly.” And that was the end of the story. He wouldn't bother himself explaining why he always liked romance better when it ended in tragedy. It reminded him that he was not the only one prone to self-sabotage.

Eugene lowered the book and looked down at him. After a short silence, he repeated: “Your Lulu?”

“ _Yes_.”

Merriell never spoke about his family during the war. Not once. Not even when they asked him, not even to look at some pictures that would help him to carry on. _Nothing_. Everybody assumed that he didn't have anyone and since Eugene fell asleep, he never got to see if someone waited for him at the train station. But it's been six years since then. Maybe he didn't have a family then, but who says that he didn't have one now? His Lulu _had_ to be his wife. Why call her _his_? He used to call him _his_ boy, _his_ Eugene. He refused to think about how much he enjoyed hearing it. He was far too focused in picturing the girl. Probably a brunette, because apparently he always liked those better even if redheads were truly, as he said, _his only weakness_. But he had the feeling he only said so to make him blush. On the other hand, he also recognized that he liked meaty thighs while rubbing and squeezing Eugene's bony knees and the light skin of his slender legs. It didn't matter. No one could _ever_ compare to him, because to him, he was unique and beautiful in ways that others couldn't even imagine. And Eugene, being young and in love for the very first time, believed _everything_ he said. Those confessions in secrecy created the most beautiful gospel Eugene ever heard. How was he supposed to know those were nothing but lies?

He was sure that _Lulu_ looked gorgeous and that she was a vivacious young woman. Nothing like him. And the envy he felt was so intimate that he felt betrayed by him. Angry and resentful. Those sour feelings were the ones that forced him to ask: “Why did you leave?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you leave me without saying goodbye?” He was not going to back down. Maybe the question came from the worst place possible, but it was a question that he was dying to make ever since he woke up alone on tha train. Only the memory of running towards the bathroom after trying to find Merriell all over the train so he could cry without being seen made him feel pathetic. Who survives a war and cries over heartache?

Merriell knew that sooner or later that question would be asked. But this was not the right moment for the answer. His heart was beating against his temples and he had a lump on his throat, choking him and giving him the warning that as soon as he would sit up, he would vomit everything he ate during the day and perhaps some of it from yesterday. How could he, feeling like that, tell him that he left because he thought he was doing him a favor? That the idea of meeting his parents terrified him? That he felt like being with him would ruin his life? That nothing he would ever give him would be enough because Eugene deserved way more than just _him_?

That dizziness and regret made him choose the worst answer possible: “For fuck's sake, Sledge. I bet I'm not the only man that lied to you.”

It sounded like an insult to Eugene. After all these years, he was still not going to give him a reason? Or even ask for forgiveness? Merely assume that it was on him for lacking experience?

Eugene tensed his jaw and felt his face becoming all warm with anger and shame. He threw the novel at Merriell's head, making him complain and finally open his eyes. Force him to feel something, for once. He had to be a sadist. He had to feel entertained by his pain.

“No, you aren't.” the redhead began. When Merriell looked at him, he felt the burning need to ask him who else did he love. Has he been with someone else during this time? Has he fallen in love since he left him? Merriell was in no position to feel jealous and yet, he did. “But you are the only one that _abandoned_ me.”

The Cajun thought about going after him, but as soon as he tried to lean over his forearms, the room started to spin and he had to lay back once again. When Eugene stormed out of the cabin and slammed the door after him, he covered his face with his hands and cursed: “... _Fuck_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 In 1952, the British occupation of Egypt was entering its 70th year, but was limited to the Suez Canal zone. On the morning of 25 January 1952, Brigadier Kenneth Exham, the British commander, issued a warning to Egyptian policemen in Ismaïlia, demanding that they surrender their weapons and leave the canal zone entirely. By doing so, the British aimed to get rid of the only manifestation of Egyptian governmental authority in the canal zone. They also wanted to end the aid the police force was providing to anti-British fedayeen groups. The Ismailia Governorate refused the British request, a refusal that was reiterated by interior minister Fouad Serageddin. As a result, 7,000 British soldiers equipped with machine guns, tanks and armour surrounded the governorate building and its barracks, containing nearly 700 Egyptian officers and soldiers. Armed only with rifles, the Egyptians refused to surrender their weapons. The British commander thus ordered his troops to bombard the buildings. Vastly outnumbered, the Egyptians continued to fight until they ran out of ammunition. The confrontation, which lasted two hours, left 50 Egyptians dead and 80 others injured. The rest were taken captive. Source: Wikipedia
> 
> 2 The Cairo fire (Arabic: حريق القاهرة), also known as Black Saturday, was a series of riots that took place on 26 January 1952, marked by the burning and looting of some 750 buildings—retail shops, cafes, cinemas, hotels, restaurants, theatres, nightclubs, and the city’s Opera House—in downtown Cairo. The direct trigger of the riots was the killing by British occupation troops of 50 Egyptian auxiliary policemen in the city of Ismaïlia in a one-sided battle a day earlier. The spontaneous anti-British protests that followed these deaths were quickly seized upon by organized elements in the crowd, who burned and ransacked large sectors of Cairo amidst the unexplained absence of security forces. The fire is thought by some to have signalled the end of the Kingdom of Egypt. Source: Wikipedia
> 
> 3 The Korean War was a war between North Korea (with the support of China and the Soviet Union) and South Korea (with the support of the United Nations, principally from the United States). The conflict escalated into warfare when North Korean military (Korean People’s Army, KPA) forces—supported by the Soviet Union and China—crossed the border and advanced into South Korea on 25 June 1950. The United Nations Security Council authorized the formation of the United Nations Command and the dispatch of forces to Korea to repel what was recognized as a North Korean invasion. Twenty-one countries of the United Nations eventually contributed to the UN force, with the United States providing around 90% of the military personnel. Source: Wikipedia
> 
> 4 The Rosetta Stone is a granodiorite stele discovered in 1799 which is inscribed with three versions of a decree issued in Memphis, Egypt in 196 BC during the Ptolemaic dynasty on behalf of King Ptolemy V Epiphanes. The top and middle texts are in Ancient Egyptian using hieroglyphic and Demotic scripts respectively, while the bottom is in Ancient Greek. The decree has only minor differences among the three versions, so the Rosetta Stone became key to deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphs, thereby opening a window into ancient Egyptian history. Napoleon’s 1798 campaign in Egypt inspired a burst of Egyptomania in Europe, and especially France. A corps of 167 technical experts (savants), known as the Commission des Sciences et des Arts, accompanied the French expeditionary army to Egypt. The discovery was reported in September in Courrier de l'Égypte, the official newspaper of the French expedition. Source: Wikipedia
> 
> 5 King Farouk dismissed Mustafa el-Nahhas’s government, and in the months that followed, three different politicians were instructed to form governments, each proving short-lived: Ali Maher (27 January – 1 March), Ahmed Naguib El-Hilali (2 March – 29 June, and 22–23 July) and Hussein Sirri (2–20 July). These “salvation ministries”, as they were called, failed to halt the country’s downward spiral. Corruption remained ubiquitous despite attempts by successive prime ministers to put their political houses in order. Source: Wikipedia


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They didn't tell me about the curses, either. And I ain't riskin' my luck for no dead kid.” Merriell was far from being a religious man, but he believed that terrible fates could fall upon the shoulders of the careless and the greedy. And he couldn't risk the little luck he was born with.  
> “Don't be ridiculous.” Eugene rolled his eyes, now using his scarf to cover his mouth and nose. “Those weren't curses, Snafu. Those were germs.”  
> “...Germs?” he blinked, confused.  
> “Bad germs.” The scarf was now over his lips, but the meloncholic smile made a second appearance that day. How strange was it to have such fond memories related to war. “These tombs have been buried under the sand for thousands of years. They are plagued with germs. There's no such thing as a curse, just poorly prepared explorers. Cover your face, put your gloves on and stop complaining.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it was a good idea to split the first chapter in two parts! I also decided to add the flashback that was supposed to appear further in the story in this second chapter. I think it works better here so we get to have an idea why Eugene is so distant and grumpy with Snaf. He truly believed that they would be together! My poor, poor baby fox angel. I love him. He has the right to put Merry through a little misery such as the boat or... something even worse ;) (No, Snafu is not a good companion if you want to travel!).
> 
> At least they finally get to meet Ahk, so that is great, huh? Let a boy out of his sarcophagus, that's all I am saying!
> 
> Enjoy ;)

**SAN DIEGO, FEBRUARY 1946**

Eugene wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder with loving lips as Merriell leaned over him to get his pack of cigarettes over the nightstand. He put one between his lips and laid on his back, taking his time to light it up. Once he managed, he left the lighter over the small table and put his arm around Eugene's shoulders, keeping him close to his bare and sweated body. Eugene cuddled him and hummed. Merriell smiled as he felt his moist hair against his jaw when he nudged his forehead against it.

About an hour ago, Eugene sneaked inside of his room, well aware that the following morning they had to wake up early to take the train that would finally get them home. Still, he was convinced that it was compulsory to spend the night together. And Merriell, as usual, couldn't deny him any request, no matter how illogical and how tired they would both look in the morning. But then Eugene kissed his cheeks and caressed his shoulders, breathing how much he loved him and Merriell _had_ to make love to him. He had to show him that he felt the very same.

“You still get this cuddly?” Merriell couldn't help but tease him. He had him in his arms. The boy was his for the night and one of the many odd ways he had to show his love was through jokes and mockery. “You keep havin' your first time over and over again...”

“You seem to know plenty about people's first times.” Eugene rolled his eyes, far from surprised that he decided to ruin the moment by _talking_.

“I know plenty about yours.” It was embedded in his mind. What he said, how he looked like, the way his hands trembled over his arms. His eyes looking up at him, nervous because it was finally happening but at the same time happy about it. And then the silence and the need to keep touching him to have the certainty that what they did wasn't only the result of a very long and unfair war. Merriell remembered having the urgency to kiss his hands and tell him that he loved him, just to release him from the burden of fear.

“ _Right_.” he snorted and caressed his forearm with his fingertips. After a second of silence, he patted it gently and Merriell offered him his cigarette. After breathing in the smoke, Eugene held it in his lungs before letting it go. The Cajun knew him by now and could tell that there was plenty in his mind. That now that their bodies were tired, his head reminded him there was plenty about to happen in the following hours. He asked him to share whatever that was in his mind with a gentle question. “I can't believe we are finally here, Snaf.” he admitted. “That's all. It doesn't feel real.”

“It doesn't.” he had to agree with him. The mere idea of thinking about holding his Mamaw again almost made him want to cry like a little boy. She would know, wouldn't she? That he was no longer the same man. That the war scarred his soul and that a boy touched his heart. She would be able to see it in the very same moment he would stand in front of her.

“I'm going to see my parents again...” Eugene whispered, bringing his fingers to his mouth, to bite his nails and the skin around them. Merriell gently pried it away. Eugene even got sick due to that habit back in those cursed islands. He ended up having pus under his flesh because filth found its way through those little cuts and he even saw him throwing up because he put something in his mouth that did not belong there, like mud and gunpowder.

“Your Mama is gonna cry, I can tell.” he attempted to cheer him up with a casual comment and a funny smirk on his lips. Eugene smiled back, still distracted by the whole idea of walking inside of his house again. He nodded lightly and Merriell kissed his forehead. “You are gonna have a beautiful life, Eugene. I'm sure.” He deserved it. If there was anyone in this world that deserved the very best then, to Merriell, that person was Eugene.

“I don't know that much, but...” Eugene brushed his hair back and then he started to move. He leaned even more against Merriell's chest and folded his hands over his skin. He looked down and frowned, nodding a bit to himself, as if he was trying to find the best way to say those words.

Merriell smiled, fondly, and poked his forehead. “I can hear the gears workin', boy. Just say it.”

The redhead decided to follow his advice and blurted out: “The only life I want is the one I can share with you.” The older boy looked up at him and stayed in silence. That made Eugene nervous and he kept talking, hoping that he sounded convincing and way less nervous than he was. “I have everything planned.”

“Do you?” Merriell merely asked, refusing to think or hear that little voice that pushed him to end this. There were things that were unattainable. No matter how much he suffered, some things are simply not meant to be rewards but impossible dreams.

“Yes!” he sat down over the bed, so he could look down at him. Merriell rested a hand over his thigh and kept smoking with the other one. The cigarette was doing a poor job at soothing his nerves. “Listen. You come with me, okay?” Eugene was convinced that he didn't have a family. He never spoke about anyone at all and he refused to let him go back to an empty house. He would take care of him, as his _partner_. He had to stay positive. He had to believe that it was something he would be able to have in his life: love without the shame. “You come with me to Mobile. And you stay at my parents' for a little while. Until we find something to do.”

“Something to do.”

“Yes, something to do.” Eugene frowned a bit. “Like... _A job_.” By the way he said it, it was awfully clear to Merriell that he never had one.

And he wouldn't for a while. “You are not gettin' a job, you hafta study.”

“I don't have to do _anything_.”

“Yes, you do. You're gonna get a degree. You can't just waste your potential.”

“ _Potential_. For God's sake, Merriell, it's just _university_.” Before the war, studies were very important to Eugene. His father always encouraged him to do his best and his mother expected the finest grades. He had to put effort into it, but now when he saw brilliant men dying like _anyone else_ , then Eugene doubted if it truly made a difference to have a degree or not, after all. Oswalt wanted to become a brain surgeon and probably had the _potential_ for it but that didn't keep him from dying, did it?

“You can argue with me all you want, but you ain't gonna change my mind, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene rolled his eyes and sighed — _stubborn as usual!_ “My point is,” he decided to continue telling him his not so elaborated plan. “that you can stay at my parents' until you get a job and I resume my studies. Better?”

It made him uncomfortable. Merriell winced and sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed. He ran a hand through his tangled and moist curls, wincing a bit when he pulled them by accident. Then, he sighed and shook his head.

“What?” Eugene asked anxiously. “It's a good plan, Snaf.” The only plan he had. And he needed to have something to hold onto, if not he will get _lost_.

“It's not a good plan, Gene. In fact, it's a _terrible_ plan.”

“What's _your_ plan, then?”

“I don't have one.” he confessed. “Who the fuck has plan after a goddamn war?”

“Burgie does.” Eugene interrupted him before he barely had time to finish his question.

Merriell huffed and shook his head. That was hardly the same. Eugene should know that better than anyone. “Burgie is gonna get married to a _girl_.” And who says that Florence was actually going to move to Texas? He doubted that the girl was there, waiting for him. Maybe she found someone else to love. War was nasty like that, people can't wait forever for those who leave. Still, as soon as he said that, Eugene squared his jaw and turned to get out of the bed, grab his clothes and leave. Merriell grabbed his arm before he could even set a foot on the ground. “No, wait. That's not what I mean.” That was not the problem.

“Then what do you mean?” Eugene confronted him, now looking frustrated. “What are you trying to tell me? You don't think I can take it?” If he wanted to end whatever that they had right there, then he only had to say it. It would hurt him and maybe he wouldn't be able to deal with it too gracefully, but he wanted him to be honest about their future, _if_ they had one.

“Jesus Christ, give me a fuckin' second to explain myself!” Always that Eugene got insecure, he felt the need grow defensive in hopes that he could mask his doubts and fears.

“Then go ahead!”

“I'm tryin'! _Fuck_!” he groaned and rubbed his forehead. “You say I stay at your parents' for a while. _Alright_. How do you think that will go?” Eugene frowned and shrugged, not knowing what he was implying with that. “Do you honestly think they will want me there?”

“Why wouldn't they? You are my... _friend_.” That didn't sound convincing in the slightest and Merriell had to let him know by arching an eyebrow. “ _What_?”

“Let's say that they _believe_ that.” They wouldn't. They would see things. It wasn't easy for him to pretend around Eugene. He wanted to touch him, feel him. Always be close to him, make sure that he was okay and happy. Such intimacy was very revealing. “Who the Hell wants a stranger in their house? Who the Hell would want someone like _me_ in their house?”

“What do you mean with someone like _you_?”

“Eugene...”

“No! I want to know!” the redhead insisted, shifting closer to him. “What do you mean with that? Is someone like you a caring man?” Merriell snorted and nodded. _Yeah, right_. “Alright, you were an asshole to me at first.” There were many ways to say things and during those first battles, Merriell was _far_ from being nice or merely respectful. With time, he showed a whole new side to Eugene and he fell in love with him because he was kind to him. Eugene was not a fool. He couldn't trick him into thinking he was something he wasn't. “Someone who is, I bet, very hard-working and honest.”

“I used to gamble a lot.” He still did, of course, whenever he had the chance. He always enjoyed the game of _deceit_. Anything to hide who he truly was.

“We all have our flaws.” Eugene waved his hand, carelessly. “And you won't find anyone to gamble with in Mobile. And even if you do, you only need make sure my mother won't see you.” he smiled slightly, biting his lower lip and hoping he was convincing him.

Merriell sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “I have no manners. No money. No education. And they will eventually _know_.”

Eugene denied once again. None of that mattered to him. He loved him and he liked to think that the other Marine loved him back. And if his parents eventually found out, then... He would have to face it. Like a man. Like the adult that he was. “My father would understand.” he muttered. Then, he nodded, convincing himself. “He would support anything that makes me happy.”

“Anythin' not anyone. And don't even try to tell me your Ma—”

“Merriell, please.” Eugene held his hand with both of his. He squeezed it tenderly and looked at him with pleading eyes. “I don't know what we are going to do, if not.” he licked his lips. “Do you understand what I am trying to say? If we don't...” Then it was _over_. Eugene knew it wouldn't be enough for either of them to see each other once in a while, hoping to keep the flame warm. He didn't want this to be the end of them. He wanted and needed him in his life.

But Merriell knew that if Eugene kept him around, his life would get worse and worse until he would blame him and regret he ever decided that having him was enough to be happy. He never made anyone happy in his life and he couldn't possibly do that to Eugene. He meant it; he wanted him to have a beautiful life. And the only way to give him that was disappearing.

Still, he smiled, small and doubtful. He decided to give him a silent answer, nodding and knowing that he was lying. He would never get to see Mobile. And that was for the best.

Eugene smiled and held him, tight as he could, truly believing that he convinced him.

He survived a war and he was still a gullible boy.

**THEBES, MARCH 1952**

Eugene was not talking to him.

In fact, he looked at him like he was nothing but _garbage_ and perhaps Merriell could understand that reaction, but it frustrated him greatly that each time he tried to talk to him, he merely turned his head and said that he wanted to focus on his article. _Nothing else_. That as soon as he would get the pictures of Fredericks caught in the act, they would go on separate ways. _Without talking about anything else_. Eugene got tired of being humiliated and he refused to put himself through the shame of demanding an explanation and obtaining a joke.

Merriell followed him, still with his suitcase in his hand, hungry, tired and desperate for a shower. When he commented that they could book a hotel room, Eugene snorted and said _nothing_. Maybe he was getting fucking tired of that attitude of his, even if he deserved it. Who the Hell would demand an explanation to someone who was struggling not to vomit after speaking more than ten words? Still as spoiled as he was six years ago.

While chasing Eugene around the streets of the Thebes and getting in plenty of alleys, he observed Eugene talking very a basic French to some locals, who asked him if he was British. When he explained that he was from the States, they shrugged a bit, relaxing but far from trusting him completely. He thought about helping him when he struggled to find the proper word, but he was quite certain that if he did so, Eugene would take it as an offense. He enjoyed feeling independent. Took him plenty to show himself that he was an adult and that he could take care of himself. Hell, the boy volunteered to prove himself that he was self-sufficient.

By the time he started to feel anxious about being in a market, crowded with people and yet with so much space to track, Eugene finally allowed him to know where they were heading. Merriell merely sighed and continued to walk right after him.

Their destination was a little shop. He looked around and found himself quite unimpressed by their collections of trinkets. Still, he remembered that both Lou and Ellie, her daughter, asked for a few presents. He knew that if he came back home empty handed, he would be in great danger.

“We have everything you need!” The little boy behind the counter smiled as soon as he saw them. “The favourite jewels of Mutnedjmet[1]! The toys of Cleopatra and Mark Antony's twins[2]! Hatshepsut's beard[3]! Anything a curious man might want to bring back home to his family!”

“Could we speak to your father?” Eugene politely asked as he rested his hands over the glass, barely looking at anything exposed underneath it.

“What's that accent?” the boy asked right away, frowning slightly. “Are you British?”

Merriell sighed and rolled his eyes. He joined Eugene and leaned his arm over the counter. The redhead stepped away from him and that made him feel a little angrier. He only wanted a fucking shower, at this point. Was that so much to ask? “Do we look British to you, kid?”

He hummed and tilted his head to the side, pointing at Eugene. “He looks a little British to me.”

Eugene smiled briefly and nodded. “I'm not British, I'm from Alabama.”

“Mhmm.” the boy nodded, far from impressed. “Would you be interested in hearing the curse of Tutankhamun's tomb and how it destroyed the white men that _dared to disturb his eternal slumber_ [4]?” he widened his eyes with a small smile.

“Curse?” Merriell frowned. “What curse?” he looked at Eugene. “These tombs are cursed?” he asked in English.

“Don't be ridiculous, Merriell.” Eugene huffed. He switched languages again when he resumed his conversation with the overly entertained boy. “What's your name?”

“You can call me Husain.” he replied. “It means beautiful. _Handsome_.” he explained while briefly looking at Merriell. He snickered and nodded. Alright, that kid was kinda funny. “It's very fitting.”

“Very fitting, indeed. Can we, _please_ , talk to your father?” Eugene insisted; his patience was wavering.

“I guess!” the boy sighed. “ _Baba_!”

As Eugene heard the footsteps coming closer, he got the map from his bag and started to unfold it. He didn't want to waste more time. Merriell observed the man as he appeared from behind the beaded curtains. “Ah, costumers!” he grinned. “How can I help you, gentlemen? We have everything in our little shop. Anything a curious man could want!”

Eugene nodded a little irritated, not wanting to hear the same offer twice. Since he looked so frustrated and Merriell was still bitter about the their little trip on the Nile, he said: “We'd _really_ like to see the beard.”

“Shut up!” the younger man snapped at Merriell when he tried to distract the owner of the shop. The Cajun grinned, pleased with himself, and raised his chin. “You are Talib, aren't you?” the man finally nodded. “We need a light aircraft to go to the Valley of the Kings.”

“A _what_?” Merriell interrupted him.

“Can you let me do what I need to do?!” Eugene turned and faced him properly, speaking English and way quicker than he would ever manage in French.

“No one told me about having to take a _plane_.” he shook his head. No, absolutely not. If a boat sinks, he can swim. But if a plane falls, he sure as fuck can't _fly_.

“Don't tell me you are _scared_ , now.”

“It's not my preference.” he didn't serve with his cousin in Europe for that same reason. He was not going to set a foot on a plane. Even less jump from it. He had to be an idiot to do that.

“You get seasick, you are scared of flying... _Please_ , tell me: why would you volunteer to become someone's bodyguard when you are _nothing_ but a burden?” Eugene roughly poked his chest with a finger.

“It didn't say anything about ships or planes!” he easily excused himself, rubbing the spot on his chest. “Just having military experience and fluent French! And that's it!”

“How did you think we'd move?” Eugene insisted, absolutely exasperated.

“I don't know...” Merriell looked at the father and son from the corner of his eyes. None of them looked like they would want to witness this exchange, but that was far from being the first time tourists acted like fools. “The train is always an option.”

“Yeah, like it's _reliable_ to take a train anywhere with you.” Maybe that wasn't very classy, but the redhead didn't have the patience to let him understand how important it was to get there before Fredericks. Eugene turned to look at the man being the counter and switched languages again: “We'd like to rent a light aircraft.”

“Right now?” Talib eventually asked once he made sure they wouldn't resume their bickering.

“Right now.” Eugene nodded.

“ _Tomorrow_.” Merriell interrupted them. The younger man closed his eyes and sighed. “Listen to me, Eugene. Stop being so fuckin' stubborn and listen to me!”

“I am listening!”

“Like fuck you are!” And then Eugene fell quiet to let him show that he was listening and that he was overreacting. “Fredericks was _wasted_ and I bet my ass he is still sleepin' it off. Why don't we get a room, you call the hotel and make sure he didn't leave Cairo yet? I need a shower, and I am hungry and sleepy. If he is still there, we can rest.” He _needed_ it. “And even if he already left, you'll have the time to come back here before he does. What's the purpose of goin' to the middle of the desert if he ain't showin' up?” He was not going to get on a light aircraft an hour later after stepping out of a ship. _Absolutely not_.

Eugene stayed in silence for a few seconds, furrowing his nose before he snorted: “ _Hungry and sleepy?_ Jesus, you are not a bodyguard, you are a _baby_.”

“I'm bein' reasonable and you _hate_ that.”

“... _Shut up_.” he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands. “Fine. _Alright_.” Eugene had to accept it: Merriell had a point. Who wants to spend a whole day in the desert, waiting for someone who might not even arrive? “We'll get a hotel room.”

*** * ***

Merriell fell on his knees over the sand and Eugene rolled his eyes.

“It wasn't so bad.” he told him as Merriell glared at him. He was still pale and trembling and he doubted he would be able to do that again. “Whatever.” he shrugged and turned towards the man and paid him for his service. They agreed that he would come back for them as soon as the Sun would set. As he returned to him after that brief chat, Eugene crouched and looked at him. Yesterday Merriell took a shower and he no longer had any product on his hair that could keep his curls under control. He looked more like the man he remembered. The one that used to purr like a happy cat when he brushed his hair with his fingers, tenderly, never pulling it and massaging his scalp. “We need to hide.” he mumbled.

“I'd rather take the ship, next time.” he could bear feeling dizzy, but it was way harder when he was terrified of that stupid thing falling.

“In the middle of the desert? A little complicated.” he didn't sound as scathing now that Merriell was taking a minute — _or two_ — to recover. “Come on.” he patted his shoulder and stood up.

“We scoutin' for Brits, now?” Merriell closed his eyes and breathed heavily before he stood up over his weak legs.

Eugene couldn't help but smile, slightly and briefly. It barely lasted over his lips; Merriell didn't get to see it. “Kinda, yeah.”

The map allowed them to find the tomb. The gate was in ruins and when Merriell asked if there shouldn't be a pyramid there, Eugene merely replied that it was _another time period_ [5]. He spoke a little more than he did the previous day and told him that he had the feeling that, by the way there was _nothing_ that could make the tomb stand out, maybe someone made sure that Merenkahre's legacy would be forgotten as soon as possible. Before they could discuss why, Eugene suggested staying away from the tomb and settle down on a good place, from where he could take pictures and wouldn't be seen by Fredericks as soon as he arrived. The dunes, while they didn't offer any shadow, provided them a good hiding spot. Eugene wrapped the scarf he carried around his head to keep the scorching Sun from punishing him more than necessary. Little tricks he learned across the Pacific, and since they didn't have a helmet anymore... At least they had water and food. It wasn't all that hot and he was grateful they visited the country in March instead of July. But it was always wise to avoid a sunstroke.

When he noticed that Merriell did the same —they were truly creatures of habits, and what you learn during the war it's worth remembering—, he almost mourned the loss of the sight of his curls and then Eugene reminded himself that was, in fact, not only someone who betrayed him but also a married man. _A married man without a ring_ , Eugene thought when he glanced at his hands. Was he the kind to take it off? Was he unhappy? Or merely unfaithful?

 _Those who are married are off limits_ , as his mother once told him.

Her words kept him from keep thinking even more about him or his wife.

“You went to school for this?” Merriell eventually asked. Eugene looked at him and then he looked down, digging his boots deeper in the sand. “You gotta talk to me. We ain't got nothin' better to do.”

Eugene sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Doesn't matter, does it?”

“It does to me.” he insisted, observing Eugene as he got his pipe from his bag.

“I didn't.” Eugene eventually confessed after pressing the tabacco.

“Why the fuck not?” he frowned. He told him to resume his studies.

“ _Because_.” Eugene shrugged. “You don't get to judge how I handled my life.” Not after deciding to walk away from him in the most cowardly way possible.

“We said you'd go t—”

“Well, I didn't, alright?” he interrupted him right away. He won't be lectured by him. Not now, not _ever_. “I didn't want to study anymore. It didn't make any sense to me.”

“That's stupid.” he huffed. He should have studied something. He should have the experience of going to college and meeting people with similar interests. It would have been something worth living after the devastation and the carnage. “How did you even get his job?”

Eugene held the smoke in his lungs for a couple of seconds before he answered. “Sid.”

“Sid?”

“My friend, Sid. From Mobile.” Eugene explained. Merriell arched an eyebrow so he tried a second time: “Blond?”

“With the tiny eyes?”

The redhead sighed. “Yes, Snafu. With the tiny eyes.” Each time that he remembered him, he repeated that detail about him. “He was still in contact with someone from his company, Leckie. I met him briefly during the war.” They spoke _once_ , literally. “He was working in that newspaper, back then.”

Well, he didn't like that. He didn't like that one bit, but maybe he was in no place to comment on his decisions. “You also live in Philadelphia?”

Eugene was a little reluctant to answer that question but eventually said: “I travel a lot but... We could say that I do, yes.” He was not going to tell him that it took him two long years to get over his depression and the feeling of isolation and heartache. He came back home as a broken man. It took him more time than others to put all the pieces back together.

“Do you know a man called Babe?”

Eugene frowned, confused. “Why would I know a man called _Babe_?”

“I don't know...” It would have been a funny coincidence. “Since when do you know that guy?”

“Fredericks?” Eugene asked before Merriell nodded. “Just a few months. Enough to know his character.”

“Why does it bother you so much what he does?”

“It's not okay to steal.” Eugene stated firmly. “What he does is not okay, and I am willing to tell the world, so they are aware of what he and many others like him do.”

“ _Everybody_ steals.” He was convinced of that. And it wasn't like those riches would be benefiting those who have been dead for thousands of years. “And no one will ever know what's missing.”

“This is their _culture_ , Snafu.” the redhead argued. “This is what they _have_. These are their origins. Egypt was one of the most important and powerful countries of the ancient world. It doesn't make any sense to me that some men decide to come over, loot as much as they can to obtain profit and explose the relics in museums across the world. Does it make any sense to you?”

“It doesn't, but it won't be the first time it happens. Or the last.” he shrugged, carelessly. “My cousin Roe told me what some soldiers did back in Europe, y'know? That some stole plenty from the Nazis.” And not only from the Nazis, in fact. But that relied plenty on the morality of each man, “That there was this guy... I think his name was Sp—”

“You have a cousin?” Eugene interrupted him. When Merriell nodded, he muttered. “You never told me you had a cousin. Did he serve too, then?” Another nod from the Cajun. He cleared his throat and played with his pipe, not knowing how to feel about that. So Merriell _did_ have a family. Then why didn't he tell them about him, at least? “It doesn't matter.” he told himself. “Who the Hell cares about the Nazis?” Anything that happened to them, they deserved it. “This is not the same. A country deserves to preserve its history.”

“Maybe.” Still, he didn't really see the point in this. Eugene wrote an article and then, what? Would that solve the issue miraculously? He doubted it, but since it looked like it was important to him, he decided to be somehow respectful about it. This article allowed him to have the chance to spend time with him. He didn't have the right to complain.

He even thought about trying to say something slightly encouraging or even giving Eugene's a better answer than he did last night, but he quickly cleaned his pipe and got his camera from his bag. “He's here! He's here!”

Merriell turned his head and, _indeed_ , Fredericks was there, too.

*** * ***

Eugene took a few more pictures and licked his lips. _He got him_.

Fredericks spent the whole day raiding the tomb. He forced Merriell to make a list of everything that he saw being extracted from it. The bit of information that didn't escape his attention was that he only obtained two sarcophagus, and that the third, was still missing. Eugene considered that maybe Ahkmenrah died as a very young boy. Perhaps little after birth, so he couldn't be in either of those sarcophagus since those, by their sizes, clear contained grown adults. What surprised him the most was how frustrated Fredericks looked. He insisted to the locals that he hired for this adventure that they would be back tomorrow morning. And that _no one_ would leave until they would find the third sarcophagus. Eugene had to find out why it was so important. Maybe it was simply a matter of being paid less. If you promised three mummies and only got two, then you clearly won't obtain as much money as agreed.

He lowered the camera and waited until they took off. Then he patted Merriell's arms. “Let's go, it's our turn.”

“Our turn for what?” Eugene put the camera back in his bag by now and got a flashlight as the Cajun spoke. “Oh, no. _Fuck no_. No way. We are not gettin' in there.” But Eugene was already coming out of their hidden spot and rushing towards the tomb. “Hey!”

“Of course we are! I need pictures of the inside!” he replied, not slowing down. Merriell groaned and followed him _again_.

“You don't need them for your article!” he grumbled.

“Of course I do!”

“The curse, Eugene.” he stood in front of him, walking backwards. “They didn't tell me about the curses, either. And I ain't riskin' my luck for no dead kid.” Merriell was far from being a religious man, but he believed that terrible fates could fall upon the shoulders of the careless and the greedy. And he couldn't risk the little luck he was born with.

“Don't be ridiculous.” Eugene rolled his eyes, now using his scarf to cover his mouth and nose. “Those weren't curses, Snafu. Those were _germs_.”

“...Germs?” he blinked, confused.

“ _Bad germs_.” The scarf was now over his lips, but the meloncholic smile made a second appearance that day. How strange was it to have such fond memories related to war. “These tombs have been buried under the sand for _thousands_ of years. They are plagued with germs. There's no such thing as a curse, just poorly prepared explorers. Cover your face, put your gloves on and stop complaining.” Eugene walked past him, carefully lowering himself into the hole Fredericks and the men that came with him made to be able to access the ruined and partially covered gate.

Merriell huffed and stood there. “What if the aviator comes back and he doesn't see us?” The Sun was starting to set.

“I just want to take a quick look.” the redhead said as he slid underneath the wood planks. It was _clear_ that they were going to come back tomorrow.

“But...”

“If you are _so terribly scared_ , you can wait there! But let me do my job!” Eugene raised his voice, the echo of the tomb made Merriell uneasy.

“ _Fuck_.” he rubbed his back before he jumped in, getting inside the tomb. Of course he would risk getting cursed for the boy. Thankfully he was _over him_ , God knows what he would do if he _wasn't_. “Wait for me, for fuck's sake!” He couldn't see a goddamn thing in there. Just the glow of Eugene's flashlight and his silhouette. He took his lighter and while it wasn't much, it allowed him to see the paintings decorating the walls.

“Take a look at this...” Eugene whispered as they reached the second corridor. He pointed at the scene that depicted Pharaoh sailing towards the Underworld.

Merriell stood close to Eugene, until the redhead's elbow touched his stomach. When Eugene tried to force some distance between them, he grumbled that if he moved, he wouldn't be able to see. “What does this mean?”

“The soul travels towards the land of the dead. Some Pharaohs were even buried with their own ships[6], to make sure that they would arrive to Aaru safely.”

“Yeah, somethin' tells me these people were buried with a bunch of shit they didn't need anymore.” he snorted and nodded, remembering all the artifacts Fredericks got from the tomb. “Aaru is their Heaven?”

“More like Paradise.” Eugene replied before he resumed walking. “It's traduced as the Field of Reeds. The land of those were honorable during life. They will find _everything_ they need there, such as never-ending harvest and the ones that died before them, waiting to resume their life, without the burden of those were cruel and unfair.”

“How do you know all this?” Because while back in the day Eugene could recite _any_ Bible passage that could cross your mind by memory —they even made a game out of it during long and quiet hours of waiting for more violence to happen—, he never mentioned feeling curious about ancient mythologies.

“I like to know what I am talking about while writing an article.” he commented like there were some journalists out there who didn't. “Hurry up. I want to take pictures of the burial chamber.”

“I bet my ass he didn't leave a single thing.”

“He must have if he was so angry.”

“Is that... Ahkmenrah so important?” He could barely remember the name.

“It's not that he was important, but more like he is a mystery. No one can tell for sure if he existed or not. There's just one parchment that explains about his birth but honestly, it sounds like _fiction_. It tells how he was blessed by Khonsu and how the Moon was his protector.”

“ _Right_.” he snickered, nodding.

“Some people love their children that much.” Eugene didn't doubt his existance because of that overly fantastic testimony but more because of the fact that there was _nothing_ that could prove that he survived the birth or that he grew up to become a young man.

Merriell was about to make some sort of tasteless joke when he remembered Ellie smiling and how much he enjoyed playing with his niece and he merely couldn't anymore. “I can tell...”

Eugene stopped for a second. _Does he...?_ It doesn't matter. Of course, it's a possibility. _If he is a married man, who says he is not also a father?_ He swallowed thickly and started to walk again a little faster. That was unimportant. He had to hurry up, take the pictures he needed and then leave. Then, this adventure will be _over_. With some luck, he will _never_ see Merriell again.

And that was for the best.

As he expected, the burial chamber was now empty. It was big enough to hold plenty of treasures, but perhaps not as big as he expected. Merenkahre was given the name of _The Great_ , perhaps for that simple reason he expected it to be more than it was. “Help me out, will you?” He said as he gave Merriell the flashlight. Then he got his camera from his bag and started to get pictures of every single thing. The Cajun sighed and leaned against the wall, doing a terrible job at helping Eugene with his photographs.

“You could put some effort into it, for God's sake!” Eugene eventually told him, giving him a scathing look.

“I am.” he shrugged as he leaned even more against the wall.

And that was when, while being the worst company Eugene could bring to this expedition, Merriell made a _marvelous_ discovery. The wall he was currently leaning against was properly covered with paintings and managed to disguise the fact that it was made of clay and therefore, uneable to bear his weight. It cracked down and Merriell fell right on his ass, finding the secret chamber of the tomb.

“Snaf!” Eugene rushed towards him as he groaned. The scarves around their mouths now came handy since the whole chamber was covered in dust and spiders webs. The redhead carefully slid through the hole and put a hand over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I knew somethin' would fuckin' happen.” he complained, sitting up.

“You should be more careful...”

“Oh, _save it_!” His ass hurt and he was not in the mood to be lectured.

Eugene shrugged and stood up, eagerly looking around. The sight of the golden sarcophagus made him part his lips and let out a shaky sigh. “You have to be kidding me!” Fredericks spent a whole day inside of that chamber and didn't notice the trick? Ancient Egyptians were very careful and elaborated when it came to deceit and traps to guarantee the safety of the tombs. It was clear that this was done as something while running out of time and that Fredericks had to be a very eager man if he missed something like this. “Snafu, you discovered Ahkmernah's tomb!”

“Tell me about it when I start feelin' my ass again.” he didn't sound very thrilled or even remotely pleased while he rubbed his behind.

Eugene snatched the flashlight from his hand and stood closer to the sarcophagus. “Jesus Christ.” His hands were even trembling. Not only he would be able to write the perfect article to criticise the practices of the likes of Robert Fredericks but perhaps even about the discovery of one of the most enigmatic prices of Ancient Egypt. “Okay, okay. Don't be get overwhelmed by the obvious, focus on the details first.” he reminded himself. In the details hid the valuable information. The sarcophagus implied what was obvious. The few objects scattered around the chamber was what could give him more information about the Prince.

The very first clue was over the sarcophagus. A little figurine also made of clay. That kept Eugene from touching it even if he was wearing gloves. If the wall broke so easily, he didn't want to be the one to blame for more destruction. “Check this out.” he whispered to himself. He held the flashlight between his jaw and his shoulder. He couldn't trust Merriell with it, that much was clear. “An Ushebti.”

“What the Hell is that?” Merriell asked with a gruff. He stopped having fun a long time ago. Before he even got inside of the tomb.

“They used to bury slaves along with the dead to make sure they would have servants in the next life. But turns out it was not very practical. These little figurines represented them and gave them the certainty that they would be waiting for them in Aaru.”

“Are you telling me that they buried slaves _alive_?”

“Did but stopped.”

“How kind of them!”

“But how come he only has one?” Eugene was once again talking to himself, ignoring Merriell. “And why is it made of clay?” All the ones that he saw in different pictures and museums were made out of gold, faience or wood. But never clay. Bright _red_ clay. He snapped a few more pictures and walked around the sarcophagus, spotting a few scrolls in a corner. This had to be something spontaneous. Why take the time to hide the body and then leave everything so disorganized? It was to be something _temporary_.

Since Eugene was clearly entertained by taking pictures of every single parchment that he saw and couldn't read, Merriell looked around and saw something that caught his interest. More gold. He squinted and approached the part of the chamber that Eugene didn't get to explore just yet. He brushed the cobweb covered in dust and sand aside and he widened his eyes.

A tablet made of pure gold.

He swallowed thickly and his hands even got clammy inside of his worn out leather gloves. At first he thought about telling Eugene, he truly did. But... Who would even miss it? Those mummies wouldn't be needing it any time soon. And he was poor as it gets. He wanted to have a big house where he would live with his family. With a balcony and a porch. Away from the bayou, in those streets that had cobblestones, trees and a _name_. He could sell it before leaving Egypt and go back home victorious like a rich man. He licked his lips and looked over his shoulder. Eugene was still distracted and not paying him any sort of attention. He opened his bag and cleaned the tablet poorly and quickly before he got it from the wall. He barely needed to use any strength to get it, but it was quite heavy.

They will give him a fortune for this!

And come on, was he even to blame? If he used to dig in enemies mouths to get a few teeth made out of gold, what wouldn't he do to get that tablet? It wasn't like he had sticky fingers, he simply had to find other ways to survive and prosper in life.

“Snaf!” Eugene called him. He stood up, startled, and turned around. Did he catch him? “Come here, I need you to hold this for me. I can't do everything by myself.”

No, he didn't.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just give me a second.” he put his bag over his shoulder again, allowing the strap to cross his chest and rest over his hip. It was heavy but he could carry it just fine. He walked towards Eugene and held the fleshlight for him. “You have no idea what those things mean, do you?”

“Not a clue, but I am sure I can find someone who does.” Eugene replied, making sure that he didn't miss anything.

A loud noise startled the both of them.

“Did you hear that?” Merriell asked, as he grabbed Eugene's arm and forced him to stand up.

The redhead frowned and peered through the hole on the clay wall. “Maybe we should hurry up.” He didn't think it was a good idea to share with him the idea that maybe Fredericks came back to trap them inside of the tomb.

“Come on.” Merriell even dragged Eugene towards the wall and then they heard another loud noise. It came from behind them, not from the outside of the tomb. The clay figurine was vibrating over the sarcophagus, swaying over it but not looking like it would fall at any moment. “What the fuck?!” Okay, he didn't think bad germs could possibly be involved in this. He wrapped an arm around Eugene, keeping him close to his body, to make sure no harm could get to thim.

But Eugene was not scared. He was blushed and ashamed. Did Fredericks think he was, _oh so funny_ , to stunt all of this to make him think he made a significant discovery? He cursed as the banging continued, hearing the screams from the inside of the sarcophagus.

“What the fuck are you doin'?!” Merriell roared when Eugene approached the sarcophagus. He pulled him back, roughly. “We are leavin'! Right fuckin' now!”

“Can't you see this is a joke?! He is laughing at me!” Eugene argued.

“What the fuck are you even sayin'?!”

“He planned all of this! I am not that innocent. I can tell when I am being tricked!” Eugene no longer believed the word of those who spoke to him. If someone who loved him could lie to him, then _anyone_ could. Eugene released himself from Merriell's grip and moved the Ushebti aside, now careless that it could break since it was fake. _Everything_ in there was fake and as soon as he was done with it, he would burn the pictures of the inside of this hidden chamber. He won't give Fredericks' any satisfaction. _That sneaky son of a bitch_.

The screams from the sarcophagus got louder and Eugene no longer took it seriously. There was someone in there, for sure. And as soon as he got to see their face, they will better understand English because Eugene had a couple of things to say.

But as soon as he figured out how to open the first sarcophagus, Merriell brought his hand towards his back, feeling the gun he carefully hid under his open vest. He doubted Eugene would appreciate the fact he brought a fire weapon to their little adventure, but if there was some idiot in there trying to scare them, then he would have to use it to make sure something like this would _never_ happen again.

The lid of the second sarcophagus was harder to open to remove because the third and last one was shaking so violently. The idiot in there was probably suffocating just to scare them off. What he didn't expect was for the third lid to fly off with the strength that was gathered during thousands of years. Eugene could step back in time before it could hit him.

Merriell pulled his gun out but what he saw left him petrified: a figure wrapped from head to toe with many lawyers of linen rose from the inside of the sarcophagus, groaning and turning his head, blindly. That was not someone who has been hiding for a couple of hours. _No fucking way_. The linen was visibly ripped around the arms and chest and even over the lower legs, to be able to obtain even to room to move. The mummy continued to scream and pant for air, holding the edge of the sarcophagus, as his whole head was also carefully covered, sinking in his mouth and nostrils with each breath he took. It looked _agonizing_. A couple of amulets fell to the ground as the mummy tripped over the sarcophagus in his way out.

The Cajun looked at Eugene, who lowered the scarf around his mouth and let it rest under his chin. He looked as startled as he was. He thought about grabbing his arm and forcing him to run after him, but that fucking ancient mummy was right between them, pulling and ripping the bandages around his head. He could see olive skin and then thick and messy black hair. And then, nothing because the mummy turned his head towards Eugene and he could only see his hazel eyes widening.

Because seeing the mummy from Eugene's perspective changed _everything_. He could recognize those big eyes and squared jaw. The pointy ears and the beautiful nose. That was the sight of a face he fell in love with a few years ago. It was like going back in time, but recovering a memory from an unexpected place. The first time he saw Merriell in that tent, perhaps only a year or two over twenty. Eugene furrowed his eyebrows and breathed lowly. _Oh, to go back. To change the story. To make it better...!_

The mummy looked at him, blinking as those quickly welled with tears. That smile that appeared over those lips was graceful and endearing, and yet so different from Merriell's, that most of the times was either entertained or sardonic. A hand was extended towards Eugene and rested over his cheek. He didn't feel scared when he could feel the rough and old rotten linen over his cheek. This couldn't be a joke. It made no sense that that mummy had Merriell's face.

When he thought it couldn't be more delirious or terrifying, the mummy whispered with loving tenderness: “Leonellus, my love. _My treasure_. You could finally hear me, at last.” That was, in fact, _perfect English_.

And then Eugene could only close his eyes, shocked and unable to process the situation at hand, when the mummy kissed his lips.

He hadn't been kissed like that in a _very_ long time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Mutnedjmet was an Ancient Egyptian queen, the Great Royal Wife of Horemheb, the last ruler of the 18th Dynasty. The name, Mutnedjmet, translates as: The sweet Mut. Some Egyptologists have speculated that Mutnedjemet is identical to Nefertiti’s sister Mutbenret. This identification was partially based on the fact that Mutbenret’s name used to be read as Mutnedjmet. Other Egyptologist such as Geoffrey Martin note that there is no definite evidence to prove this assertion. Source: Wikipedia.
> 
> 2 Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene II. Cleopatra named her son after Alexander the Great. His second name in Ancient Greek means “Sun”; this was the counterpart of his twin sister’s second name Selene (Σελήνη), meaning “Moon”. After Antony and Cleopatra’s defeat at Actium and their suicides in Egypt in 30 BC, Selene and her brothers were brought to Rome and placed in the household of Octavian’s sister, Octavia the Younger, a former wife of her father. Cleopatra Selene eventually married Juba II of Numidia and Mauretania. The fate of Alexander Helios is unknown. After Helios arrived in Rome, he disappears from historical records, implying that he died before reaching maturity. Source: Wikipedia.
> 
> 3 Hatshepsut (1507–1458 BC) was the fifth pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt. She was the second historically-confirmed female pharaoh, the first being Sobekneferu. Hatshepsut assumed all of the regalia and symbols of the pharaonic office in official representations: the Khat head cloth, topped with the uraeus, the traditional false beard, and shendyt kilt. Source: Wikipedia.
> 
> 4 When King Tut’s tomb itself was discovered on November 26, 1922—after more than 3000 years of uninterrupted repose—some believed the pharaoh unleashed a powerful curse of death and destruction upon all who dared disturb his eternal slumber. Source: [MentalFloss](https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/23321/victims-king-tuts-curse).
> 
> 5 Most pyramids were built as tombs for the country’s pharaohs and their consorts during the Old and Middle Kingdom periods. Source: Wikipedia.
> 
> 6 Several Ancient Egyptian solar ships and boat pits were found in many Ancient Egyptian sites. The most famous is the Khufu ship now preserved in the Giza Solar boat museum beside the Great pyramid at Giza. The full-sized ships or boats were buried near Ancient Egyptians’ Pyramids or Temples at many sites. The history and function of the ships are not precisely known. They might be of the type known as a “solar barge”, a ritual vessel to carry the resurrected king with the sun god Ra across the heavens. However, some ships bear signs of being used in water, and it is possible that these ships were funerary barges. Source: Wikipedia


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are dead, you idiot.” Merriell finally stepped forward, getting his arms between their chests and separating them.  
> Ahkmenrah frowned and pointed at him: “You better cease this trick, stranger. Reveal yourself or I'll have my guards skin your face: mine and the one underneath. I'll enjoy hearing you scream for help and get nothing but more pain for ever trying to hurt Leonellus!” There was a moment of silence after that gruesome promise. Phaorah blinked and looked at Eugene, biting the corner of his lower lip. “Too much?” The redhead nodded right away. “Right, uh...” he cleared his throat. “You'll be punished, either way.”  
> “I ain't gonna be punished for nothin'. This is my fuckin' face, kid!” Merriell even pinched his own cheek and pulled. There was no mask there.  
> “Then how come we look so similar?!” Ahkmenrah insisted. “Well, I look way more hands—”  
> “I'm gonna kill him. I will kill this kid, Eugene. I swear to God. I will, I don't care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know I am a little late but... If you don't see me updating this story on Friday, maybe I will try to do so on Sunday and if for some reason I am unable to, then I will upload the next Friday. So... Yeah!!!
> 
> Two quick questions:  
> 1- Does Merriell hate Ahkmenrah? The answer is very simple. ABSOLUTELY! He smooched his ex!  
> 2- Does Eugene ever get tired of jumping into conclusions? No, but it would be about time he stopped!
> 
> Enjoy ;)

There was a moment of silence inside of the tomb.

Eugene barely heard his own breathing over his heart pounding on his throat and temples. He furrowed his eyebrows and couldn't help but think that those lips felt soft but chapped. And that made him remember his very first kiss. How Merriell asked him if anyone kissed him back home. When Eugene shook his head, ashamed and knowing that he was _late_ , the Cajun merely muttered if he could do it. Then Eugene nodded gingerly and they kissed in their foxhole, when many others were asleep. And if there was anyone awake, they were either very lucky because they didn't notice or because they never said anything about it.

The memory was what made him break the kiss, resting a firm hand over the shoulder of the mummy.

“Leonellus,” he breathed again, cupping both cheeks with those grimy bandages. He sighed and leaned his forehead against Eugene's. “I've been so scared. Oh, Gods. I was terrified without you. I thought I lost you. What happened? Why didn't you come earlier? I was waiting for you.”

Eugene blinked and stuttered: “ _Huh_?”

The mummy smiled a little wider, with a pure and sweet glint in his eyes and it was so unlike Merriell. He never had the chance to keep his innocence. By the time Eugene met him, he was already tired and haunted. That always made Eugene want to offer him the very best, so he could balance the tragedy over his shoulders. _Make it lighter_.

“Aren't you happy to see me?” he asked and tilted his head forward again and Eugene rejected that second kiss by turning his head. He didn't think it was _right_ to kiss anyone in front of Merriell. They used to have some sort of relationship and he doubted that was appropiate. But he shouldn't worry about that. He shouldn't care if that bothered him or not. They weren't even friends anymore. Still, his eyes were anxious and landed on Merriell, who was still _shocked_. He _had_ to be since he was awfully quiet. “Leonellus.”

“My name is Eugene!” he rushed to say. Set a boundary that almost sounded like an excuse: _He kissed me, I don't even know the guy!_ Was he apologizing to Merriell, in a way? He shouldn't do that, either!

The mummy frowned and said: “What are you talking about?”

“My name is not Leonellus, it's Eugene!” he insisted, trying to resist those arms around him that aimed to keep him close.

“They put a spell on you. Those evil priests...! Did they come back while I was away?” Priest Hanbar and Priest Jabari tried to kill Leonellus as soon as the boy arrived to his realm. They hated him and thought he would unleash tragedy. It wouldn't be too crazy to assume they were after this. “We'll fi—”

“ _What the fuck_?!” Merriell finally found his voice and when he spoke, he did it loud and clear. _Oh, he sounded mad!_ “What the fuck is this?!” It was dark inside of the tomb and Eugene was still the one that carried the flashlight, but he could see what happened. He could see it quite clearly and he began to think he was the one being tricked. Did Eugene plan all this to see him being kissed by someone else? Because that shit hurt a little bit and made him insanely angry. “Thank God you told me to be careful with bad germs and the first thing you do is French a fuckin' corpse?!” Well, someone that _pretended_ to be a corpse. He didn't think anyone dead would have the energy to kiss Eugene, no matter how good he looked. He was angry. He was _furious_. Merriell grabbed the linen covering the mummy's back and pulled, roughly, hearing the fabric rip and managing to throw him to the ground and away from Eugene. Then he confronted the redhead, who blinked and parted his lips. “What the fuck was that, Sledge? You think I'm a fuckin' toy you can play with?” Eugene shook his head. “Yeah, you fuckin' do. You didn't want me around you? Okay! You could have told me!” He _actually_ did. But then he found a way to make sure he could follow Eugene around the country. “How fuckin' dare you do this to me? I am not worth any sort of respect or _what_?!”

Eugene was about to try to explain himself after being accused, but that was when he saw the fire weapon in Merriell's hand, as he kept gesturing to release some stress and frustration. He gasped: “You brought a _gun_?”

“Of course I did!” he snapped. “I thought it could be dangerous with that asshole.” He truly didn't like the way Fredericks spoke to Eugene. He was sure he would give them trouble, sooner or later. He knew that kind of people. “Turns out you had the time and nerve to plan all this _shit_!” He groaned and finally pulled his scarf down. Those germs were clearly another way to make fun of him. “I can't even breathe with this fuc—”

“How dare you speak to Leonellus like that, stranger!” It took the mummy a bit to react, impressed that anyone would dare to disrespect Leonellus in front of him. Didn't they all know that he was his lover and that he protected him?

He stood up quikly and before he could take a step forward, Merriell barked, without even turning to look at him: “Be quiet, motherfucker! I will get to you when I'm done!”

“... _Motherfucker_?” he blinked. “No, no! I never did that!” That was a very ugly accusation. He would have to have him executed. Where were the guards? He turned around, squinting and not managing to see much other than a light at the very end. They were inside of a tomb? But why?! He knew that he was waiting for Leonellus in his room and then he found himself trapped in... He turned his head to the right and saw the sarcophagus. Now he could see, for his eyes were no longer covered with the bandages. But they still were wrapped all over his body. “What...?”

“Is this some sort of revenge? You wanted me to see this, huh? I know you are no longer mine. I am aware of that!” He walked away from him and that was something he _had_ to accept. But it was harder to do so now that Eugene was back in his life, if it was only for a little while. “You didn't have to do this.”

Maybe it was the betrayed look in Merriell's eyes what pushed him to grow defensive again: “I didn't do anything!”

“You _did_!”

“ _He_ kissed me!”

“ _You_ let him!”

“I was _surprised_!”

“Like _fuck_ you were!”

“Snafu, you are missing the point here!” This bickering could wait. And so could the jealousy and whatever that there was between the two of them that had to _end_ for good. Eugene would want to have a partner, someday. An actual partner, not just... A few minutes of feeling like he was over Merriell. But the fact that a mummy looked so similar to him was way more important and worrysome than his pathetic love life. “Look at him.” When the older man started to argue with him and saying that he wasn't done with him just yet, Eugene had to interrupt him again: “Merriell, look at him!” he grabbed his face and forced him to turn it around.

Eugene's fingers had a strong grip, making him even pout slightly, as they were sinking in his cheeks. Merriell frowned and blinked, looking at the mummy who was still inspecting the sarcophagus. So he could see what Eugene noticed, the redhead pointed the flashlight at the stranger and then Merriell saw the stricking resemblance. Some profile, similar complexion, the hair just as dark but not as curly. The lines that composed his face were softer; younger and fuller than he was.

“ _What the_...?” he couldn't even finish the sentence. How was someone supposed to react after seeing their clone? As far as he was aware, he didn't have a twin brother. Even less one that was visibly younger than him and that has been trapped in a sarcophagus, in the middle of the desert, for who knows how long.

“Exactly!” Eugene released his face and looked at him, anxiously. While he was convinced that Fredericks has been part of this, he no longer thought the same. While the relic hunter saw Merriell before he stole his map, he didn't know that he knew him in any way. Merriell also said something about a Belgian egyptologist, but he was no longer listening, too busy finding a way to go to Thebes before sunrise.

“This is the curse?” Merriell turned to look at Eugene again. Merriell _knew_ that the worst punishment he could be put through was dealing with someone who was exactly like him. He was not the best company you could keep, he was well aware of that.

“What? _No_.” the redhead frowned. “They don't exist!”

“They don't exist and there he is!” he gestured at the mummy with his gun. Eugene forced him to lower his arm.

“It's a coincidence!”

“Easy for you to say, let's see how you react when your double jumps out of a sarcophagus!” The younger man crossed his arms, not appreciating the tone. The Cajun shook his head. This couldn't be real and he was _leaving_. “This is givin' me the heebie jeebies.” He has been cursed. He could tell. Now this... fucking mummy will chase them all over the country. Try to kill them. And that adventure will become quite a _nuisance_. “Let's leave before he jumps on us and sucks our blood.”

“Those are vamp—”

“ _Not now_!” he grabbed his arm, in order to leave that tomb, get on that light aircraft, try not to freak out and forget about this. Eugene had his pictures, he could backup his article with evidence and therefore, this was _over_.

But the mummy was still in their way and he finally paid them some proper attention, looking absolutely lost: “Leonellus, I don't understand.”

“His name is Eugene, fucko!”

The mummy frowned and observed him. He went from frustration to even more confusion. Merriell leaned back a bit when he felt those rotten bandages over his face as he was touched, as a way to verify he was there and real. When he was about to say something awfully offensive, the mummy reacted and stood between him and Eugene, pushing him away and saying: “You've been tricked, Leonellus. He has been pretending to be me! But I am here, your true love!” The mummy cupped Eugene's face again, making him widen his eyes. “It's me! Ahkmenrah! Your Prince.” he insisted, with a small hopeful smile. “Wake up from your dream, I'm back. We'll be together until the very end. You'll see me reign and you'll be _dignified_. You'll live the rest of your days as a fr—” But then there was a thud and he rolled his eyes before he slumped over Eugene.

The redhead could hold him, but still fell over his knees at the sudden weight over him. He blinked and saw that Merriell was holding the gun by its barrel. “You knocked him out?!”

“He was freakin' me the the fuck out, Eugene!” he said, far from apologetic but awfully defensive.

“You are unbelievable!” he huffed and carefully laid the mummy over the ground and crouched over him. He titled his face and ignored Merriell when he ordered him not to touch him. “You don't get what's going on, do you? He said he is _Ahkmenrah_ , Snaf.”

“I don't care!” he insisted. “All I know is that we need to go back to the hotel and as much as I hated that light aircraft, I don't wanna be stuck here for the rest of the night, so _let's go_!”

“We can't leave him here! There are so many question that have no answer: Why is he still alive? How come no one ever found him? Why didn't Fredericks hear him if he spent here all day? Why does he look like you but much younger?”

Merriell parted his lips and repeated: “ _Much_ younger?”

“He looks _quite_ younger. Even younger than you did when we met.”

“Are you trying to tell me I looked _old_ when I was in my early twenties?”

“You looked like the _asshole_ that you were.”

“Asshole?”

“Oh, sorry. You weren't an asshole when you threw your nasty sandals over the cots so none of us could stay in the tent?”

“Do you ever get over stuff?” It's been almost a decade since that happened. And he only did that to get his attention. And... Well, he got it, didn't he?

And to that, Eugene merely stated: “ _No_.” Then he tried to put Ahkmenrah's arm around his shoulders. “Now help me. We are taking him with us.”

“Eug—”

“ _Thank you_ , I don't want to hear it.”

 _What a fucking spoiled brat_. He always had to do what he wanted and even if hated the idea of having to see someone with his exact same face, he eventually groaned and helped him.

*** * ***

“Let's never speak about what just happened.” Eugene said as soon as they managed to get Ahkmenrah over the bed.

“... _Yeah_.” Merriell groaned and sat down over the other twin bed, rubbing his temples. They had to lie to the pilot, make him believe that he was his little brother that wanted to play a prank on them —that clearly didn't work and they agreed to pay him more so he would stop asking question—, and then they had to sneak inside of their room in the hotel and it was a _miracle_ that no one caught them.

It was the most stressful night they had in a very long time.

“What are you doin'?” Merriell asked, instantly feeling jealous as Eugene leaned over the boy.

“It's incredible how much you two look alike.” Eugene whispered, observing his nose. That was exactly the same. Perhaps the bags under his eyes weren't as noticeable as Merriell's but the lips were full and the chin pointy. He looked over his shoulder at the Cajun, who was far from amused, and then down at the mummy. At _Ahkmenrah_.

“We don't. I'm more handsome.” he stood up from the bed and held Eugene's sleeve, pulling lightly. “Don't you think?”

“This is very strange, Snaf.” It didn't make any sort of sense, but the other veteran was clearly more worried about the question he didn't answer. “He claims that I look like... Leonellus.” He never heard that name before, _obviously_. “That's... Odd. I don't believe in reicarn—”

Merriell interrupted him, looking pissed and sounding bitter as he could be: “If this is reincarnation and he was a prince and I'm just a fella, Imma be real pissed about it.”

“That's fair.” Eugene sighed and nodded.

“ _Descendants_?”

“How likely it is for them to reproduce and all the generations that came after them to also do so and for us to look _exactly_ like them?” he shook his head. “He looks very young, I don't think he had the t—”

“Not everybody waits as much as you did.”

Eugene glared at him. “Any complaint?”

“Nah, it was me who got the benefit of being the first one after all.”

Of course he would say something like that!

“Don't you ever get tired of being disgusting?”

“Oh, now sleeping with me is _disgustin_ '?”

“That's what _you_ said, not me.”

“Did you have sex with more men? Did you enjoy it more with them than you did it with me?” And now he was way off line and Eugene let him know by frowning at him. “You are a reporter, you know there are no uncomfortable questions, only people who don't wanna answer.”

Eugene was very tired of his attitude and how annoyingly jealous he got ever since they found a _millenary mummy_. He was married and he had no right to ask him about who he slept with and if that was as pleasing as it was with him. Well, no. Of course not. Eugene fell in love with him. Then he distrusted the men he met, assuming they would leave him very much like he did. But since he was getting so annoying... “ _Yes_.”

Merriell crossed his arms and looked like he was doing a poor job at accepting the answer. Eugene considered saying something else but then he thought that he left him, got married and had at least one child. He did all that and he was supposed to feel bad for sleeping with other men? _Please!_

Thankfully, the mummy stirred and rubbed his eyes with a long and tired sigh. Eugene pushed Merriell away from the bed, so he wouldn't knock him out again.

“Hello?” Eugene asked. He had many questions and while he didn't know if all of them had an answer, he couldn't help but being intrigued about the situation.

“Leonellus...” Ahkmenrah muttered, rubbing the back of his head before he sat up, slow and lazy. “I've had such a strange dream. There was this... man that looked just like me! But older and... ragged!” he sighed, shaking his head. Merriell grumbled, obtaining the attention of Pharaoh. “He's back!” he jumped on his feet and wrapped his arms around Eugene, protective and keeping him away from the older veteran. “Look at the state of him! How pitiful!” he shooked his head, disapprovingly. “You didn't fall for that foolish trick, did you?” he cupped Eugene's cheek, raising his eyebrows. “No, of course not. You are far too clever. You must be under his spell. Priest Didia will set you free.” he brushed the tip of his nose against his and said: “Anything that happened while I was gone, is forgiven. I've missed you. I love you, I love you.”

“Listen, uh... Ahkmenrah? Listen to me, alright?” Eugene struggled a bit to make some room between the two of them as Pharaoh attempted to kiss his face. “Hey, hey!” The redhead was too proper to allow anyone to kiss him in front of someone else. Sure, it felt good to be treated with such care, but there was so much left to discover. And he wasn't that boy he spoke about. He couldn't trick him.

“You are dead, you idiot.” Merriell finally stepped forward, getting his arms between their chests and separating them.

Ahkmenrah frowned and pointed at him: “You better cease this trick, stranger. Reveal yourself or I'll have my guards skin your face: mine and the one underneath. I'll _enjoy_ hearing you scream for help and get nothing but more pain for ever trying to hurt Leonellus!” There was a moment of silence after that gruesome promise. Phaorah blinked and looked at Eugene, biting the corner of his lower lip. “Too much?” The redhead nodded right away. “ _Right_ , uh...” he cleared his throat. “You'll be punished, either way.”

“I ain't gonna be punished for nothin'. This is my fuckin' face, kid!” Merriell even pinched his own cheek and pulled. There was no mask there.

“Then how come we look so similar?!” Ahkmenrah insisted. “Well, I look way more hands—”

“I'm gonna kill him. I will kill this kid, Eugene. I swear to God. I will, _I don't care_.” Eugene gestured at him so he would calm down.

“His name is Leonellus!” Pharaoh interrupted him. “Stop confusing him!”

“His name is not Leonellus. His name is Eugene and you have been dead for, at least, four thousand years! And I bet my ass so has been your fuckin' Leonellus!” Ahkemenrah denied, slowly and parted his lips. “Look at him! Do it! If you loved him so much, you'll be able to see that's not your... whatever that he was.”

“That's... impossible.” Ahkmenrah whispered, turning around and resting a caring hand over Eugene's cheek. The veteran was getting more used to being touched with those disgusting bandages. “Leonellus...” He whispered and then he started to see very obvious details that the darkness of the tomb and the bliss that came with seeing his lover again concealed.

His eyes were hazel, not bright green. The Roman boy had emerald eyes, beautiful and the color of Kemet. Like those revealed his kind intentions, no matter how crimson his hair was. Those lips he once described as carnelian were the very same and perhaps so was the nose, but there was something about his most noticeable feature that wasn't exactly like the slave's. Ahkmenrah caressed the bridge and his, _Eugene's_ , was slightly more delicate. The ears... not as big.

Then he held his arms and looked down at his body and those clothes he didn't understand. But he squeezed his biceps and then his waist. Fuller than the slave's. This one had a healthy body, unlike his Leonellus who starved for most of his life. But there was something that would give him the confirmation. He turned the man around and pulled the shirt up, all the way up to the back of his neck.

“It's fine, Snafu.” Eugene held Merriell's forearm when he stepped closer. “He needs to know.”

Ahkmenrah caressed his back with the palm of his hands and the skin was smooth. He didn't have scars that came with years of being whipped. Then, as his very last choice, he squeezed his shoulder, tight, to see if he would yelp with pain. And he didn't, since it wasn't dislocated.

That was not Leonellus. Looked awfully similar, but still not him.

“You are not him...” the mummy finally muttered.

Merriell rubbed his nose and looked down for a second.

“I'm sorry.” Eugene sighed, tucking his shirt inside of his trousers again before he faced him.

“Why aren't you?” he tilted his head. “If you are so similar, then why aren't you...?” he licked his lips, his eyes welling up with tears. “Where is he?” he breathed, nervously, frantically looking around. “He can't be dead. What happened to him?”

“I... don't know anything about any Leonellus.” Eugene finally admitted, awfully uncomfortable. “We didn't even know for sure you existed...”

“He died as a slave?” Ahkmenrah furrowed his eyebrows and then it was when the tears streamed down his cheeks. “Did he die as a slave?” he repeated, reaching out for Eugene again. “Please, tell me Kawab released him from slavery. Whatever that happened to him, please tell me he lived for many years, as a free man.” Ahkmenrah was not even sure what happened to him. He was waiting for the Roman to get to their chambers and then his back hurt, but... He touched the spot and it didn't hurt anymore. As it didn't when he was, apparently, trapped in a sarcophagus. If he was dead... “This can't be Aaru.” Where was the field of reeds that extended way beyond the horizon? His parents were supposed to be there waiting for him, as well. But, where was his treasure, his Leonellus? “It can't be. Not without him.” he shook his head, sniffing.

Eugene looked guilty and overly compassionate. Merriell could tell because he even rested a hand over the boy's shoulder, comforting him. Then, he felt like he had to help. “This is _1952_.” Even if he did so so poorly.

“ _What_?” Ahkmenrah looked at him, sobbing. He did look way younger than he ever did while being his age... whatever that was. He had to be in his early twenties, as much.

“That doesn't mean anything to him, Snafu.” Eugene told him. “He was born thousands of years before Christ.”

“Christ?” Who was that? Ahkmenrah was clearly overwhelmed by the news: the pain he was going through, knowing that he was being forced to live a life without Leonellus. Was he being punished? Which was his fault? He was always sincere and tried to be fair. Then why was Aaru denied to him? He longed to see his lover and his parents. He belonged with them, not in... _1952_ , whatever that meant! “I don't... I...” he hiccuped.

“It's alright. It's alright, don't cry.” Eugene sighed and wrapped his arms around him, cupping the back of his head. “We will help you. We'll find out where he is.” _Buried_ , of course. But he didn't have to say that, _now_. “We will figure out why you are here, alright?” Either way, he already had what he needed for his article. He could focus on this, now.

“What? No.” Merriell frowned. “This is a curse, Eugene. Don't get involved.”

“We _have_ to!” the redhead replied. “Look at him!” He gestured at Pharaoh, who was miserably crying over his shoulder, holding onto him like dear life. “What do you want to do? Take him back to the tomb? We are going to figure out what's going on and then help him.” And try not to think why there was a chance of coming back to life after death. Eugene was willing to believe blindly to be able to keep his sanity as he did before, when many brothers in arms died on the battlefield all around him.

Merriell opened his lips and Eugene glared at him. Then he groaned, one last time, long and deep, and fell over the bed.

The day he learns to say _no_ to him, he won't stop.

*** * ***

Eugene spent the rest of night comforting and convincing the boy that everything would be okay. That they would find his Leonellus and that they would help him... what? To die? Or to get used to modern life? Merriell refused to get involved in this and yet, he got awfully distracted by the picture Eugene made by taking care of someone who looked so much like him. He couldn't help but fantasize about a different world in which they both met before the war, when they were nothing but teenagers. They would have learned plenty of things together. He would have had him, for whenever he felt alone and devastated. Merriell would have repaid the favor by protecting him.

Instead they met during the most tragic event of both of their lives and then he abandoned him.

As soon as Eugene took Ahkmenrah to the bathroom, to get that nasty linen off him and so he could take a shower, Merriell leaned his head heavily against his hand.

How would their life be? If he had stayed. How would it be? Eugene would have gone to university, for sure. To study journalism, as he was meant to. He remembered that Eugene often scribbled on his pocket Bible during the war. And how that allowed him to eventually talk to him, with a softer tone and a friendly attitude. As soon as Eugene made him smile with one of his dry jokes, he knew he was lost.

 _Fuck_ , to this very day, he still loved him. Only for that reason he had a little bit of compassion towards the dead kid. If he woke up thousands of years after dying and found out that Eugene was dead and gone, he would freak out, too.

He kicked his shoes off and yawned before he laid down over the bed. It wouldn't take much longer until the Sun would rise and he was tired. He didn't know how Eugene managed to still have strength and keep going. And even more considering how that stupid kid complained about the water from the shower being too cold and then too warm and... What a baby. What an absolute brat. _Of course!_ He was a _prince_. What could you expect from those?

 _Useless people_ , he shook his head as he lit up a cigarette.

“And it gets warm _just like that_!” Ahkmenrah said as they were done with the shower. The boy padded his way towards the twin beds, barefoot and with a towel wrapped around his waist. Merriell never starved as a little boy. Mamaw kept him from that terrible fate, but he never had all that much to eat. The difference of their backgrounds was very evident in their bodies.

“It does.” Eugene smiled, entertained. Merriell wondered if he already liked that mummy more than him. “Do you like modern times a little better, now?”

“Oh, no. It's horrible.” he shook his head, wiping the drops that dripped down his forehead to his eyebrows. “I can't wait for this nightmare to be over.” And be back in Leonellus' arms. He had to stay hopeful. This was not the end. It couldn't be and Eugene promised he could help him. If he looked so similar to his beloved, he had to be a good and honest man.

Eugene chuckled and nodded. “I bet.” Out of nothing, they found themselves in the most ridiculous and illogical situation possible. Then, he turned to look at the Cajun. “Lend him some of your clothes?”

His cigarette moved over his lip as he asked: “Why me?”

“You are the same height.” There he was, being so fucking smug about those two inches that made him taller. “ _Among other things_.” Eugene added, like that was not what he was trying to imply.

“I am taller than him.” Merriell replied, childishly.

“Come on, Snaf. Don't be _difficult_.” he sighed, closing his eyes.

“You are not much taller than I am.” Two inches? What's that? Nothing! When they stood side by side, it was barely noticeable. _End of the discussion_. “Lend him your clothes.”

He rolled his eyes: “Fine!”

“You are not easy to like, are you?” Ahkmenrah asked as he looked down at him while Eugene opened his suitcase.

“No.” he merely replied as he folded an arm under his head.

“Eugene seems like he is a very nice person.” he confessed, making the redhead smile. Merriell saw it and he hated that princeling even more. “I don't think he deserves such an _unbearable man_ as his lover.”

“We are not lovers.” the younger man said right away.

“We were.” Merriell added, defensively.

“Not anymore?” Ahkmenrah asked.

“Not anymore.” Eugene answered, offering him some underpants and undershirt he bought before this trip and he didn't even get to wear, yet.

“Why not?” the Prince asked, needing a second to figure out how to wear the clothes he was given.

Eugene looked at the Cajun, in silence. _Why not?_ He didn't have an answer for that. It was not him who decided to end what they had. Something that was beautiful and sincere. Real and yet, shortly lived.

Merriell covered his face with his hand, rubbing his eyes.

“It didn't work out.” he finally said, seeing that the older man was not going to answer, either. “Let me help you out.” he muttered, just to keep himself away from that train and the feeling of crying against his hands, confused and devastated. He did the buttons of pastel yellow shirt for him. After folding the collar of the shirt, Ahkmenrah smiled and he looked youthful and grateful. He patted his shoulder and offered him the brown trousers.

“Oh, I don't like that one.” he pouted slightly.

“I'm afraid I don't have anything else, Ahkmenrah.”

He sighed and eventually nodded, slipping them up his legs. “They are tight...” he mumbled, folding his legs and feeling the fabric pulling onto his thighs.

“They are not so tight.” Maybe he was a little fuller than he was. And maybe Merriell's clothes wouldn't have fit him properly, after all. Ahkmenrah did the button and while he understood the easy function of a zipper, that was clearly the first time he used it. “There! Perfect!”

“It feels _very_ tight.” he insisted.

“You will get used to it.” Eugene encouraged. He could always buy him a jellabiya if he kept complaining. But this would have to do, by now.

“Bu—”

“How come you can speak English?” Merriell interrupted him and for the very first time, Eugene was _grateful_.

“What's English?” Ahkmenrah tilted his head.

“You are speakin' it, right now.” Merriell put his cigarette out on the ashtray.

“Speaking what?”

“ _English_.”

“But I don't know what English is.” he claimed before he coughed.

“You hafta know what it is if you are speakin' the fuckin' language, princeling.” Still, he gave up on his argument the more and the louder Ahkmenrah coughed.

Eugene even helped him to sit down. “Are you okay?”

Clearly, he wasn't. His skin was becoming grey, dry and parched. The redhead could feel how the skin of his back opened under his palm and the clothes he lend him. But nothing was seeping out of them. His flesh was tighter against his bones each time and he kept suffocating, no matter how much Eugene helped him to lean forward and told him to try to breathe evenly. Merriell stood up and joined them, crouching in front of the boy and hearing the loud and nasty noise he made when he tried to fill his lungs with some air. The last thing he saw before Pharaoh collapsed on top of him were his cloudy eyes and his painful expression.

And just like that, Ahkmenrah was dead again.

*** * ***

If this adventure wasn't so stupidly ridiculous, Merriell would even say it was quite _eerie_.

After the death of the Ahkmenrah, they both freaked out quite badly. But when they could finally agree that it could as well be something that would _just happen_ —mummies are dead by default, and after seeing the multiple stab wounds over the Prince's back, it clear that he was murdered thousands of years ago—, they agreed that they would attempt to handle this like rational adults. That... They would wait. And see if Ahkmenrah came back to life again or not.

 _And he if doesn't, he throw him into the river and call it a day_ , Merriell said, earning a very harsh and judgmental look from Eugene. He was collecting them, at this point.

It was clear that the veteran didn't agree with his plan, so he walked out of their bedroom and decided to try to gather some information about Ahkmenrah. Or about his birth, at least. That story about being protected by the Moon _had_ to mean something.

The Cajun, instead, decided to stay in the bedroom, to _guard the corpse_ and _make sure that no one would find him_. Eugene nodded, saying it was a good plan when in reality it was just the fact that Merriell wanted to get some sleep. And, in fact, it wouldn't be the first time he had to take a nap while being close to a body that was no longer alive. So he couldn't see the inconvience, there.

Eugene, on the other hand, didn't come back until late in the afternoon. No one seemed to know much about Ahkmenrah, his life or even his birth. He didn't progress in his investigation in the slightest and he was getting tired and a little bit sleepy. Ever since he came back from the war, he slept very poorly. After those six years, he got more and more used to just getting a few hours of sleep, at best. Other times he went days without sleeping a wink. At this point, his head hurt and he felt like he was even swaying. But... He didn't want to sleep in the same room as Merriell. He wouldn't allow himself to. What if he had another nightmare? He didn't want him to see him like that. He didn't want to think he was unable to move on when it came to the carnage and not only the heartache.

He was dragging his feet and rubbing his eyes, approaching the hotel when he felt a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him towards a narrow alley. That woke him up suddenly. Even more when he saw Frederick's red forehead and cheeks. He was either rabid or returned to the desert as he promised yesterday, careless about his pale complexion.

The relic hunter pressed him against the wall behind him and hissed: “Where's the tablet, Sledge?”

“Huh?” The problem was that he absolutely forgot about him after finding Ahkmenrah.

“Where. Is. The. Tablet.” he tensed his jaw, pressing his thumbs tightly against his arms. There was no way he would escape until he would get his answer.

“What tablet?” Eugene asked, confused.

“I know you were there. And I know you found the secret chamber. And that you took _everything_.”

And if he assumed that he took everything that was hidden there, which obviously didn't because he was not a tomb raider _unlike_ _others_ , how come that he was way more worried about the tablet than the mummy, itself? Oh, there's a mystery! There's something he needs to discover, in this story!

That was not the moment to get smug, but it didn't happen often that he got to have the upper hand in something. He had no idea about any tablet and neither he knew much about Ahkmenrah, but if he came back to life again... _somehow_ , he could ask him. Right? Therefore, Eugene grinned and shrugged: “Well, it wasn't very complicated, was it? I was rather surprised that you didn't find it yourself. After all, _it was right there_.” Eugene would never confess that it was Merriell's ass the one responsible behind the discovery.

“Don't play with me. You don't know what I am capable of.” Fredericks warned him, towering over him. Eugene ignored the height difference as he did many other times before. “Give me the tablet.”

“I don't have any tablet.” Eugene replied. He didn't. Maybe they would have to go back and get it... Merriell won't like that, but he will have to suck it up. Who says there wasn't a secret chamber inside the secret chamber? A mummy coming back to life was surely distracting enough for him to miss a few things.

“Don't fuck with me!” he snapped and smashed his fist against the wall by Eugene's head.

Eugene _hated_ being put in that situation. He hated violence ever since he came back from the war. Made his stomach churm and twist. And it made him feel like the virus that was contained in those islands spread and that now everybody was inclined towards cruelty. He knew it was far from the truth. Humanity always had a monstruous attraction towards violence but he couldn't handle it anymore. Made him tense and force him in a spot in which he only had two options: _fight or flight_.

Thankfully, they were interrupted before he could decide.

“Clear the alley!”

Eugene turned his head and saw a police officer gesturing at them so they would follow the order. He pushed Fredericks off him and rushed towards the hotel.

He didn't even use the elevator, he ran towards their room and burst in. “Sn—!” But he closed his lips as soon as he saw the Cajun sleeping on the bed, careless about anything that happened today or that Ahkmenrah laid, _dead_ , on the other bed. Thank God he was going to make sure no one came inside of the room. He didn't even put the _please, don't disturb_ sign on the door handle. He shook his head and had just enough decency to close the door instead of slamming it shut. “You truly are very helpful, aren't you?” Eugene snorted as he shook his head.

He approached him and noticed that his wallet and a few coins fell from his pocket, as he was resting over his back, with his waist tilted to the side. Eugene collected the coins and grabbed the wallet. He opened it only to make sure to put them back in there, where he wouldn't lose them. Merriell said that he needed the money and, after all, _a penny saved is a penny earned_.

It was fair to say that Eugene's intention was to help, not pry. But as soon as he opened the wallet, he couldn't help but notice the picture he kept there. It was a baby girl, she couldn't be much older than twelve months, there. She smiled with chubby cheeks, wearing a white dress that enhanced her tanned complexion. Her eyes were dark and her hair still too short to be either curly or straight. Eugene had a very clear deduction: that _had_ to be his daughter. There were other pictures underneath that one, he could see the white frames, but the fact he had a photograph of his daughter in his wallet and didn't wear a ring, made him think that maybe he was a proud father but not a very faithful husband. And that... _Hurt_. For many reasons.

Merriell got married and had a daughter. He moved on from whatever that they had way better than Eugene, who only met a few men, here and there, only to rush a very disappointing ending that wouldn't give him the chance to forget about his first love. And then... He didn't want to think about Merriell as an unfaithful man. He knew how he was, when he was in love. And how he looked at him. And the promises he made, but... That was also the same man that abandoned him. Eugene didn't want to accept that he was so in love with him, that maybe he was willing to ignore his flaws. He closed the wallet and left it over the bed, by Merriell's side.

 _Don't think about it. Whatever that he did or didn't do, is none of your business. Focus on your story. You have so much left to discover_.

Looking to his left helped him to brush that to the side, since Ahkmenrah's body was still over the bed, curled in a fetal position and not looking _great_. He felt like he should be more scandalized about a corpse than he was about a baby.

Eugene rubbed his forehead and groaned, picking the phone they had over the nightstand between those two beds. When he dropped himself over the bed, he accidentally sat over Merriell's arm, waking him up. The older man grumbled and turned around, giving Eugene his back with plans to keep sleeping. Eugene checked his clock and with some luck, he wound find the editor-in-chief in his office before lunch.

“Good morning, sir.” he said as soon as he heard the voice from the other side of the line. When Merriell corrected him and said that it was, in fact, _the evening_ , he slapped him over the hip, so he would shut up. “It's Eugene.” Then he sighed. “Eugene _Sledge_.” Will he ever be taken seriously in that newspaper? This article will give him the chance to finally start climbing. No more boxing matches and sex scandals for him! Serious stories, with _something_ behind them. “The article is going great! I even have some pictures that prove that Fredericks stole all the relics and sarcophagus from the tomb.” He smiled briefly at the very dry and sarcastic congratulation. Yeah, his boss was not exactly a pleasing man. Or one with manners, in fact. “Here's the thing, there might be a story... within the story.” he began, knowing he was losing Parker's interest. “I just met Fredericks and he said that he was really interested in a tablet.” Then he felt Merriell turning around and how the mattress dipped when he leaned his weight over his hand, scooting closer. “I am not very sure what that tablet is, but if I was given a little more time to investigate then ma—”

“Listen, Sledge.” he interrupted him right away. “Listen to me, kid. Alright?” Eugene sighed a very defeated _I am_ as Merriell pressed his ear against the phone, trapping the device between their faces. “People don't give a shit about mummies, okay? Or about artifacts or ancient stories. They just don't. What they want to read, _right now_ , is how Egypt is about to burst into flames _again_ , like it did a couple of months ago and how the British have the nerve _just keep pushing_ , got it? They want to know if there's going to be another war.” Eugene winced at the word. He would make a pathetic war correspondent. “Your silly little story about a tablet won't sell any papers. So you either make it look like that tablet is cursed and got Fredericks either sick or killed, or don't even bother.”

“Yes, b—”

“You have the pictures, don't you? Then start working on the draft and send it to me as soon as you finish it. You got that, kid?”

“Yes, sir...” he sighed and rubbed his nose. When he ended and looked at Merriell. “My boss is an _asshole_.”

“All bosses are, Gene.” he bumped his shoulder against his. That was the real world, something he was clearly still adapting to. Merriell looked around and grabbed his wallet, putting it back inside of his pocket. “So... You said somethin' about a tablet...?” he muttered, casually, looking at his bag over the armchair in their room and how he forgot that he stole it as soon as that stupid prince came back to life.

“Yeah...” he nodded, tiredly. “I just bumped into Fredericks and he accused me of stealing a tablet.” the redhead rolled his eyes. “But he seemed very interested in it and I can't help but think...” he gazed at Ahkmenrah, as the room was getting darker. He leaned forward and switched the lights on. “Maybe it has some connection with him?”

“You think so...?” Merriell rubbed his lower lip.

“If he was buried with it...” Eugene shrugged. “We might need to go back, Snaf.”

“Nah, I don't think so...” he whispered as he denied.

“I know you hate taking the light aircraft, but there's n—”

“No, Eugene. Listen to me.” Merriell knew that he was going to get scolded. He stood up from the bed and put his hands on his hips. “You were distracted, alright? And it was glowing, under all that... dust and shit and I thought: _Hey... It's not like anyone will ever notice..._ ” The younger veteran frowned. He decided to continue. “And I put it in my bag before I could think about it twice. But, Eugene. You'd understand if you were me. I want a nice house, okay? And I want some money in my pocket. I can't be judge for wantin' what others have, don't you think?”

“Show it to me, Shelton.”

“Fine. But don't get mad at me or anythin'. Turns out, it will save us some time, even.” he opened his bag and pulled out the golden tablet. “They will give me a fortune for this. I can tell. Imma be a rich man.”

“You can't sell it.” he stood up, walking towards him. He touched the nine different pieces, feeling the hieroglyphics with his fingertips, unable to understand them. It glowed slightly due to the light inside the room and the moonlight that slipped through the window. “We need to discover how it's connected to Ahkmenrah and why it's so important for Fredericks...”

Merriell knew he was going to sell it. He was going to get his dream house and his happy family. He didn't care about no dead rich kid.

They were so entranced by the tablet and what it could possibly mean that they didn't notice the color returning to Ahkmenrah's eyes and how his flesh became plump and soft again. He arched his back and rubbed his throat. He always woke up with such a sore throat! He blinked and looked around, seeing his new adventure companions. The mummy stood up and approached them, silently. When he recognized the object they were holding, he beamed: “Hey, that's my tablet!”

“Shit!” Merriell bounced when he heard his voice, almost dropping the tablet to the ground. Eugene tripped with his feet when he stepped back, having to lean against him. He put a hand over his chest, startled as he was. “ _Fuck_!”

They won't be getting used to someone crossing the line between life and death so easily any time soon.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, Ahkmenrah looked very young. Perhaps as young as he was during the war. But there was something about him that made him very curious and opened the door to so much suffering. Seeing him so young, lost and clueless made him think about Merriell. Merriell before Eugene appeared in his life. About his teenage years, about his relationship with his cousin —now that he knew he had one—, about those battles in Cape Gloucester with Burgie. He wondered if Merriell ever looked so fragile. If he ever allowed someone in completely. Eugene used to believe that he had a special place in the Cajun's life. That he trusted him and was willing to give their relationship a chance. Because God knows Eugene was willing to risk and even lose plenty in his life for him. Sometimes he still thought about sitting at his parents' table with Merriell. Perhaps having just enough courage to rest his hand on top of his over the table, so they would see and understand what he was trying to imply. Even accept it. Be happy for him because he had been quiet for so long and yet... None of that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!!!
> 
> Just a quick warning, I might need a little more time to update this story because in two weeks I have quite an important exam and I want to focus and study a bit. So... Yeah! I might not be able to upload a new chapter each week!
> 
> And this is another warning, but this time for Snaf: Talk shit, get hit.
> 
> Enjoy!!

“Stop doin' that shit!” Merriell huffed.

“Doing what?” Ahkmenrah tilted his head, confused.

“ _Silently_ come back to life!” To be fair, the previous night, the Prince was awfully noisy and it startled the Cajun all the same. Ahkmenrah tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, like he didn't understand. Merriell sighed and decided to just let it go. It was way too complicated to argue with someone that was that oblivious.

“So this is yours, isn't it?” Eugene decided to intervene and focus in their current mystery.

“It is!” he beamed, reaching out to get his belonging. “I haven't seen it for many a moon!”

“Okay, explain to us how does it work.” the redhead stood by his side, still staring at the tablet.

“How does it work?” Ahkmenrah asked.

“Yes!” he urged him.

“It doesn't... work?” Eugene frowned at him. “It's just for decoration, it has no use.”

“What do you mean that _it's_ _just for decoration_?” Eugene decided to ignore Merriell as he snorted and shook his head.

“That I had it on the wall of my room.” he explained with a calm smile. “It was always there. My parents told me it was supposed to protect me. But Leonellus also had his little ritual to protect us both.” None of those seemed to work all too well for him, though. He held Eugene's hand and made him sit down with him on the bed.

Merriell allowed himself to fall over the armchair, from where he would have a good view of those two. He didn't trust that mummy. If he spent so much time without his Leonellus, who says that he doesn't miss him enough to pretend with Eugene to keep his memory warm and the palms of his hands even warmer?

“Leonellus prayed to Vesta for me.” he explained with pride. Eugene nodded, failing to relate that name with her Greek counterpart.

Merriell didn't miss the chance to tease them both: “He a _believer_ too, Sledgehammer.”

But Ahkmenrah, being innocent and not used to men like the Cajun, asked curiously: “You pray often, Eugene?”

“Not as much as I should.” the redhead sighed. His mother told him to keep doing it; no matter if he felt helpless or grateful. You couldn't only bother God with problems, could you?

“Who do you pray to?”

“ _God_.”

“But which one?”

“We... only have _one_.”

“You are Jewish!” he raised his eyebrows and smiled, grabbing his wrist, pleased with himself after guessing the right answer.

“No, no.” Eugene denied making the young boy pout slightly. He couldn't help but being fond of him, he was almost like a child. A very emotional and cheerful child. “I'm Catholic.”

“What's that?”

“A regretful bunch.” Merriell interrupted them as he started playing with his lighter, aiming to be annoying and frustrate Eugene even further after mocking his faith. When he glared at him, Merriell felt slightly pleased. He was clearly not getting what he wanted from Eugene, but at least he was getting _something_.

“ _Mhmm_...” the mummy didn't seem all that interested in that new religion he came across with because he quickly resumed talking about his lover: “Either way! He prayed to Vesta for me. Gave the blood of his own hand” he even put his hand right in front of Eugene's face so he wouldn't miss that detail. “and then he said that we had to take care of her fire so she would protect us both.” he sighed, with fondness. He missed him. He missed him so bad, but he would go through this just to get to him. And then, they would be reunited, _forever_. “She was also the Goddess of _marriage_ , you know?” he leaned against Eugene, like he was sharing a secret. “To me it was like we were married, in a way. Kawab always told me that I had to find a wife and have children but... That's not me! Women are wonderful, of course, but I don't desire them. And then Leonellus arrived to my land and I thought: _Oh, Hathor, thank you for this gift!_ In reality it was Nephi who br—”

At that point he was rambling and Eugene had to interrupt him: “Let's go back to the tablet, okay?” he touched the device over Ahkmenrah's lap with his hand. Pharaoh nodded, with great disposition. “Could you read what it says here? Please?”

“Of course!” he cleared his throat and recited: “ _Those who offer their noble heart to Khonsu shall be allowed to walk by my side in the Field of Reeds_.”

“By _my_ side, meaning by _your_ side or...?” he questioned and Ahkmenrah shrugged. He felt like God was punishing him for being so cocky with Fredericks for assuming that he would be able to solve this mystery just like that. “ _Okay_. Something you actually know: Who is Khonsu?” A confirmation is always needed.

“Khonsu is the God of the Moon, Eugene. He watched after those who travelled at night.”

“At night...” And then he recalled the incredible tale of Ahkmenrah's birth and how Merenkahre begged to the Moon to protect him. “Hey, Ahk.” The boy lit up at the sudden nickname. It was a bit mouthful for Eugene, sometimes. “Is it possible that this... thing of coming back to life happens at night, _only_?” It couldn't be a coincidence that he resurrected minutes after the Sun set and died as soon as it rose and that he did the very same tonight, too.

“I don't know.” he confessed. “I couldn't see much inside of the sarcophagus.”

“It makes sense...” Eugene nodded and looked at Merriell. “It makes sense, Snaf.”

“As much sense as it can make, considering that he comes back to life and speaks a language he doesn't even know.” he shrugged, getting tired and slipping his lighter inside of his pocket. He crossed his arms and sighed. “But that doesn't explain why he keeps comin' back to life.”

“Maybe he has to be reunited with the one that offered their heart to Khonsu.” Eugene suggested.

“With Leonellus!” Ahkmenrah chirped.

“...Or your parents.” That was way more likely considering that they begged to Khonsu for his protection. Maybe they offered their heart as well, _metaphorically_.

“Or my parents!” It suddenly dawned on him. “I miss them so bad.”

“I know.” Eugene rubbed his back as soon as Ahkmenrah dwelled in the misery of being alone and far away from those he loved. “We'll find a way to help you get there, alright? In Aaru, in the Field of Reeds.”

“You are so honorable, Eugene. Your heart is so pure.” the Prince sighed, placing a hand over his chest. Merriell frowned and rubbed his nose. “You will be rewarded. As soon as I am reunited with Leonellus, I will tell him about you. He will be so grateful. We will both bless you. You'll see, your life will become the most beautiful journey a man could think of.”

After the terrors of war, the disappointment of heartache, the frustration of a stagnant career and the misery of loneliness, Eugene felt like _maybe_ he could use the help of two dead boys. It wouldn't hurt, would it? It was not like it could get _much_ worse. “I don't need a reward, I want to help you. You deserve it.” And now he felt responsible for him. He got him out of his sarcophagus, after all.

Ahkmenrah sighed and hugged him very tightly. Eugene patted his back, comfortingly. Perhaps he was a little bit clingy and perhaps that was what he truly had in common with Merriell. The Cajun was always glued to his side during the war and those months after it. Eugene was used to having someone with big eyes invading his personal space. It wasn't so bad, truly. It was just... It made him think a bit too much, about he had and then lost.

“What's your last memory?” Merriell said, suddenly standing up.

“Huh?” Ahkmenrah blinked, looking up at him.

“What's your last memory before endin' up trapped inside of that tomb?” he approached them and patted the mummy on his shoulder, commanding: “Scoot over.” When he obeyed, he sat down between the two of them and Eugene was far from surprised about his jealousy. But why did he act like that when was married? They both knew they weren't anything anymore, then why did he do it?

“I was crowned Pharaoh.” he puffed his chest. “Everybody celebrated me all day long. After the party was over, I headed to my chambers with Leonellus. Kawab told him that he wanted to apologize to him... You see, Kawab was a very fair and honest man. The one I trusted the most, he was my Vizier! And my father's cousin! But he thought that the Romans would conquer our land.”

“They, huh... _did_.” mumbled Eugene.

Ahkmenrah frowned and interrupted him right away: “I don't think that's accurate, Eugene. Leonellus was faithful to _me_.”

“I'm not saying it was _him_ , but the Roman Empire...”

“It wasn't an empire. It was a _republic_.”

Eugene decided to let it go. “I must be mistaken, then.”

“You must be.” Leonellus' honor would not be questioned in front of him. “As I was saying... He wanted to apologize to him and he told me to wait for him in our bedroom. I wanted to make love to him, but I was tipsy and tired and I fell asleep and then... The sarcophagus.” After a few seconds of silence, he voiced his conclusion: “I think I died of happiness.” Because, what else could it be? That was the happiest day of his life. Maybe the Gods didn't want him to ever experience suffering.

Then, Merriell couldn't help himself and said: “You were murdered.”

“What?” the younger boy blinked.

Eugene hit him on his side with his elbow. They never agreed on telling him that and he doubted it would be relevant in any sort of way.

“Who would have wanted to murder me? Everybody loved me.” And it showed, he wasn't even trying to be cocky. He was awfully sincere and that made Merriell even more sour.

“Your back is covered in stab wounds.” he shrugged. “I don't know, kid. I have the feelin' someone hated you _a shit ton_.”

“Snafu, shut up!” Eugene stood and left a hand over Ahkmenrah's shoulder, who was trying to feel his own back, doing a very poor job. “Stop it, he is joking, alright?”

“It's not funny!” the mummy whined.

“He's not funny.”

“I'm fuckin' _hilarious_.” Merriell grinned like a very naughty child.

“Why don't you leave for a while, Merriell? I'm _serious_. If you are not going to help and only want to stress him out then... get out! I need to talk to him, _seriously_ , so...” Eugene walked towards his suitcase and grabbed the jacket of the suit he wore when he arrived to Egypt and threw it at his lap. “Off you go. Go walk around the city or get a drink. I don't care, but come back when you stop being such an asshole.”

The older veteran pressed his lips and furrowed his nose. “Fine.” he grumbled. “You are such a baby and you can't even take a joke.” And in that moment, Ahkmenrah looked like the younger brother who just snitched on something the eldest did.

“I think you should learn how to make one!”

“Stop arguing!” Eugene groaned. “Go, Snaf! And Ahk, just ignore him, for God's sake!”

“He started it!” he insisted as Merriell wore the jacket, almost looking insulted.

“Then you finish it! How old are you? _Two_?”

“I'm a man! I'm a grown man! I was Pharaoh!”

“Then show it!” he turned and urged Merriell to get out already by moving his hand.

He slammed the door shut and stomped his way towards the elevator. He kept talking under his breath and groaning, checking his pockets and feeling his wallet there. It was late at night and he didn't feel like he could buy Lou and Ellie the presents he promised, so his plan was having a drink and hopefully coming back to a dead mummy.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he heard that entitled voice coming from the lobby. Fredericks was there, demanding to know where he could find Eugene. He must be obsessed with that tablet and Merriell was going to keep it after this whole mess was over and sell it. And even if he was mad, he wouldn't let that relic hunter get any close to Eugene.

Thankfully, and because Eugene threw the jacket of his suit at him —that no longer matched his trousers—, he carried the spectacles he stole in Cairo with him. His hair was a mess and not properly brushed, but even a refined Belgian egyptologist could feel a little wild, here and there. Because he created Louis Mercier, he decided to give him a spark of mischief. A proper man most of the times, but a bit of a rogue when things got a little funnier.

Merriell put his spectacles on and did what he had to do to keep Eugene safe in his room, with the tablet and that dead idiot.

“Fredericks!” he beamed and switched languages: “I didn't expect to find you here!” he strode towards him, quickly grabbing one of his arms.

“Mercier, hello.” he smiled, tightly and clearly angry that Eugene escaped him a few minutes ago. “If you excuse me, I need a second.” The Brit turned his head and looked at the receptionist once again. “His name is Sledge. Check it out.” he insisted as the girl behind the counter cleared her throat, not knowing how to explain him anymore she was not allowed to do that.

“Sledge!” Merriell gasped. “Oh, that American little pest!” he snorted and shook his head. “I just saw him leaving the hotel.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah, he seemed to be in a hurry, actually. We... met a couple of times,” he said in a way that the other man would understand that those meetings were far from pleasing for him. Like Eugene also intruded in his _work_. “but he couldn't help himself. He said that he was going to Cairo. That there he would call his boss.” He didn't ask the name but he heard the man's voice not that long ago. “That he had a story about a tablet.”

“ _A tablet_.” Fredericks repeated.

“That he kept for himself, actually.” Merriell continued to lie. It was awfully easy. “But he didn't look like he wanted to waste any time.” If he was in another city, he would stop messing around and they wouldn't have to worry about him ever again. And, again, the tablet would be his.

“Right.” he turned around and stepped towards the door.

Merriell stopped him: “But, hey! Don't you want to have a drink?” he offered with a friendly smile, knowing he would be rejected.

“I'm afraid I'll have to say no, this time.” If he was _so_ fond of drinking and could say no to that offer, it must be because that tablet was truly important. He decided against asking him the meaning behind it, to not look suspicious. Eugene was clever, he would find out the solution, sooner or later. “Next time.”

“Next time, then.” he nodded and released him with one last smile. “ _Bon voyage_.” _Asshole_.

*** * ***

When Merriell slammed the door, Eugene shook his head and huffed. He always made things incredibly complicated for no reason. He always had to get messy and pretend he didn't care about anything or anyone and it was frustrating. He _hated_ it.

As he sat down on the bed again, Ahkmenrah scooted closer and smiled at him resting a hand on his knee. “I'm sure he will stop being such a burden with time.”

“Oh, no, no. He loves making things harder than necessary. It's _effortless_.” He would even almost call it a talent, if he didn't feel so strange about complimenting someone that hurt him so bad.

“Your relationship with him is very complicated.” Eugene could only agree with him so he nodded. “Very different from the kind I had with Leonellus. He was hard to please, sometimes. The very first thing he told me was that if my life was so impossibly complicated that I should just die.” he told with the sweetest and fondest smile on his lips.

Eugene raised his eyebrows. Not very romantic. To that he could only mumble: “Oh...”

“But he was sweet!” he rushed to add. “As sweet as he could be. And always so dutiful and honorable.” he sighed and bit his lower lip. “The world is an gloomy place without him, it must be why I am forced to live only in darkness.” Through the night and inside of the sarcophagus, where the light could no longer find him. He pulled onto the tight fabric around his thighs, still uncomfortable wearing trousers. “And because we look so alike I can't help but wonder if... you were destined to love each other as much as Leonellus and I did.”

“That's... I'm sorry. We are not... Things have changed.”

“Between the two of you?”

“Between us and...” People in general. How would the world react to a member of a royal family falling for the same sex, nowadays? Not all too well, he felt like. But Ahkmenrah already disliked the world because of the uncomfortable clothing and Leonellus' absence. There was no need to make it any worse. “ _Everything_.” he sighed finally. “You shouldn't think about it. It's not important.”

“I think you are a good person. Good persons are loved. My mother always told me that.”

 _In a perfect world, maybe_. “Sometimes love is more complicated than that.”

“It shouldn't be!” Ahkmenrah insisted. “Before Leonellus I felt so alone.” Back when no one would look at him or dare to talk back to him. He had Idu for a little while, but he was still a monkey and not capable of having a conversation with him. “But then Leonellus arrived to my life and, Hathor, it was...” he sighed. “He was my treasure. I had a throne and a kingdom, but he was my treasure. He couldn't be compared to anything. They way he looked at me. The way he would talk to me. The way he stood by my side and gave me his strength whenever I needed it. I don't think that can be matched with _anything_.”

Eugene smiled, melancholic and perhaps even sad. He once had that kind of love. But it made no sense to think about the things that he lost. It wouldn't let him carry on. “That sounds good.”

“And now...” he furrowed his eyebrows. “I don't even know where he is and what happened to him and I pray, Gods, I pray he was given the honor he always deserved.”

“Don't think about that. Not until we find out.” Eugene said as he wrapped an arm around him. Ahkmenrah looked like he was going to cry again. “It will be fine, you have to trust me. We'll figure it out.”

Pharaoh furrowed his eyebrows but eventually nodded. Eugene patted his back, kindly, before the younger man wrapped his arms around him. He held him back but eventually had to lean back as Ahkmenrah kept leaning forward. He saw the boy closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against his chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat right against his flesh. He sighed and cupped the back of his head, caressing his hair and resting his other hand over his arm. He knew well that he was trying to obtain some comfort out of him. Perhaps even trick himself into thinking that he had his lover back for a little while and Eugene couldn't possibly blame him. Again, Ahkmenrah looked very young. Perhaps as young as he was during the war. But there was something about him that made him very curious and opened the door to so much suffering. Seeing him so young, lost and clueless made him think about Merriell. Merriell before Eugene appeared in his life. About his teenage years, about his relationship with his cousin —now that he knew he had one—, about those battles in Cape Gloucester with Burgie. He wondered if Merriell ever looked so fragile. If he ever allowed someone in completely. Eugene used to believe that he had a special place in the Cajun's life. That he trusted him and was willing to give their relationship a chance. Because God knows Eugene was willing to risk and even lose plenty in his life for him. Sometimes he still thought about sitting at his parents' table with Merriell. Perhaps having just enough courage to rest his hand on top of his over the table, so they would see and understand what he was trying to imply. Even accept it. Be happy for him because he had been quiet for so long and yet... None of that happened.

He met Merriell when tragedy already made him old and distant. And he still fell for him, like he was the most interesting man he ever met in his life. The most refreshing company he could keep added to the wisdom he shared with him that came with experience. Everything he knew, how to kiss or how to survive, he owed it to him. He loved him body and soul. And then? Then he felt like something vital disappeared, leaving emptiness inside of him. Why was he still in love with him? Why was he still in love with him when he abandoned him and he moved on? He was married, he had a child. Trying to get him back would be _immoral_.

But... He wanted to be with him. And in the same way that Ahkmenrah held him thinking about Leonellus, Eugene held him back thinking about Merriell, that was still alive and well, but as unreachable as the deceased slave.

The situation didn't get any easier when the older veteran returned before expected, catching the both of them sharing such an intimate and yet distant moment. Eugene opened his eyes and looked at Merriell and he could only describe what he felt as sadness. Pure and utter misery. Why wasn't he enough of a reason for him to want to stay? Why did he leave him behind when he loved him so much? And mostly importantly, why did that wound refuse to heal? It's been six years of asking himself the very same questions and knowing there would be no answers.

“What?” Eugene asked, feeling tired and like he already lost a thousands of battles.

Ahkmenrah opened his eyes and looked up at Merriell, in silence, not letting Eugene go just yet. He didn't smell like Leonellus, but if he pretended enough, his heartbeat could remind him of the most wonderful man he ever met.

“I see you two are enjoyin' your time together.” He was barely out for a few minutes and that kid already got in Eugene's space just like that? When he rejected him so quickly as Merriell tried to touch him after six years of separation? He was bitter with guilt and jealousy.

“Not now, Snafu.” Eugene was not in the mood to discuss _anything_ with him. Even less the idea of him being capable of feeling attracted to Ahkmenrah.

“If not now, then when?” he insisted. There was so much left to talk about. And while he didn't want to admit the reason behind leaving him, he was unable to accept he lost him. Not when someone else could get to the place he used to have. He was not over it and he _knew_.

“Whenever it doesn't sound stupid.” he replied. “Look at him, for God's sake. What does this look like, to you?” The way Ahkmenrah held onto him was not passion. It was the desperate plea for some comfort. He lost everything he once had and was constantly dying in quite a painful way; suffocating to death. “He's barely twenty, I bet.” To Eugene, he looked like a child, because his acts and the way he looked at him made him think of him as someone to take care of, not seduce or replace Merriell with.

“I'm nineteen.” Ahkmenrah added before he closed his eyes.

“Nineteen, for God's sake.” Eugene sighed and shook his head. He was ten years older than he was. To him, at that point of his life, that difference was _abysmal_.

He was both nineteen _and_ four thousand years old, Merriell thought. Instead he sounded resentful and displeased when he grumbled: “I knew what he wanted when I was nineteen.” His own envy was forcing to picture Ahkmenrah as some sneaky bastard, willing to use Eugene to think about a dead boy. After all, he kissed him in front of him and that he couldn't forgive so easily.

That didn't sit well with Eugene. He slowly sat up and prying Ahkmenrah's arms away from him, standing up. Merriell raised his chin when he stepped towards him, merely saying: “Pity you forgot with time.” Because that had to be one of the many things that happened that evening when Merriell left him. That he forgot what he saw in him. That he forgot the promise he made. That he forgot how much Eugene loved him. He did all of that like it didn't matter.

It wasn't that. It wasn't that in the slightest. Merriell thought about him day after day. Night after night. When he wanted to remember him and whenever he didn't want to. Eugene had a brutal impact in his life, for the better or the worse. But he knew he was the only one to blame, there. Eugene offered him his home and his family after the war, and all he did was lie to him and abandon him. But he didn't forget. He remembered everything; the good and the bad and everything that made their relationship real. But he didn't have the guts to say that out loud.

Instead Merriell recoiled and looked down. Maybe that was the very first time Eugene managed to have the upper hand in a staring contest. “I just saw Fredericks.” he muttered and shrugged. “I thought you'd want to know.”

Before Eugene could say anything, Ahkmenrah asked still from the bed: “Who is Fredericks?”

“Someone we don't want to bump into.” the redhead replied as he turned to take the tablet.

“Wait.” Merriell huffed, grabbed Eugene's arm. He escaped him from his reach and he _hated_ that, but nodded instead and forced himself to keep talking: “I told him you were headin' back to Cairo. With the tablet.”

Eugene frowned and observed him. “And it worked?” he couldn't help but ask.

“I can be very convincin' while lyin'.”

“ _I know_.”

He was not going to give him a fucking break, was he? _Of course not_. “Not my fault he keeps thinking I am an egyptologist.”

“Well, you introduced yourself as one.” he huffed. Then, after a very small yet somehow grateful nod, he added: “Fredericks is a very resentful man, though. If he finds out you know me and that you deceived him, he is going to shoot you.”

“He can fuckin' _try_.”

Eugene rolled his eyes, far from impressed, but looked like he was about to add something. About to show some _actual_ gratitude for getting that man off his back. It will make their adventure way easier, after all.

“Does this mean we can get out of this room?” Ahkmenrah asked, interrupting Merriell's arrogant show. “I would like that.” He wanted to see how his kingdom looked like, now. He wanted to reward Eugene for his kindness. He was sure that his people would still be able to recognize him, to some extent. Maybe they wouldn't want to give him as many presents as they did when he visited Hathor to pray for the Goddess' guidance to obtain Leonellus' love. But that was willing to accept that. _Perhaps_.

“Well, too bad that is not important.” Merriell replied, still thinking about how he caught those two embracing each other. He didn't trust that stupid mummy. Not one bit.

“It actually is. My wish was command for many.” the Prince explained with a smile on his lips that only made the older man way more frustrated.

“ _Was_. Exactly. _Past_. Now shut up.” he grumbled, making Ahkmenrah frown.

“You don't have to be such an idiot to him.” Eugene interrupted them. “We can go out for a while. It will do us good. You can stay here if you want.”

“I'm not goin' to stay here.” he replied, tensing his jaw. In fact, he didn't want to leave them alone ever again.

“Then be quiet about it.” the redhead huffed. “I'll be right back.” he said before he went to the bathroom. He needed to splash some cold water on his face. He was getting more and more tired but he had to _soldier on_.

Merriell saw Ahkmenrah's innocent and pleased smile and it was like he had fire in his throat. Did Eugene like that about him? That he was sweet? That he was kind and fucking clueless? Did that make someone like him easier to love? The fact that the boy looked so much like him perhaps made him feel like he was the version of him that easier to stomach. No rude remarks or uncomfortable stares. Just all smiles and grace and meat around his thighs. He despised him beyond words, in that moment. Jealousy could destroy an insecure man.

“What do you think you are gonna find out there?” he snapped, focusing his eyes on Ahkmenrah.

The boy raised his eyebrows, not expecting him them to have an _actual_ conversation. “Well. This is still my country even if it's another time. They must be glad that I am back.”

“Why would they be glad that you were back when no one ever wrote about you?” Now he only wanted to hurt him. Corrupt him in the same way that he was, so Eugene would no longer look at him. So he would become another disappointment like he did. “You have no legacy, kid. They don't even know if you are real.”

Ahkmenrah looked a little hurt by that. He looked down and cleared his throat. “I was loved. They must have preserved my memory. But maybe they didn't find it yet. I didn't get to rule as much as I would have wanted to, but my intentions were good. And my love for Leonellus was honest.”

Like loving someone could be enough of a reason for _anyone_ to be remembered.

“Leonellus was a slave, wasn't he?” he remembered him mentioning that in the tomb. And how shaken he was about it. When Ahkmenrah nodded, Merriell swallowed thickly. Something told him to stop talking. To not go there. If someone ever spoke about Eugene, he would go berserk. “What makes you think he had a life after you died? If he was a slave, I bet there wasn't a single idiot in your silly little court that cared about him. I bet they let him die, with no dignity. Probably let him starve in your empty room. Maybe kicked him out of your palace.” Because he had a palace and someone who loved him. And what did he have? An empty and rotting hut in the middle of a bayou. And he could only blame himself for that. “Either that, or they tossed him around, fuckin' him since he no longer had an ow—”

He was not allowed to continue. Ahkmenrah reacted and shoved him violently. Merriell stepped back and fell over one of the twin beds. He blinked, a little confused and surprised that he decided to do something about it. Still, it gave him the perfect chance to start a fight and that he was sure he could win. He would be able to release all of his anger. But before he could even stand up from the bed, Ahkmenrah jumped on him and smacked him across the face. It was clear he never got involved in any kind of fight but before Merriell could punish him with his fists, the door of the bathroom slammed open.

“What are you doing?!” Eugene shouted at them, rushing towards the bed and grabbed Ahkmenrah's arm, pulling him off Merriell. “Stop it! Are you out of your mind?!” Before the Cajun could think about returning the blow, Eugene pushed the younger man away and stood in the way. Merriell stopped right on his tracks when he felt his hand on his chest. “ _Stop_!”

“That fuckin' brat slapped me!” It wasn't the first time he was slapped, but the ones that usually gave him that treatment were girls that got tired of him not committing and tricking them into thinking they had a future together even if that only lasted a couple of weeks.

“What did you do to him?” he asked, glaring at him.

“He said...!” Ahkmenrah was choking as he sobbed, with pure wrath. Eugene wrapped an arm around him, to calm him down. “He said that they let him die! That maybe they killed him or used him! He spoke about him with no respect! Like he was nothing but an object!” And he promised himself that as long as he would live —and while he wasn't sure he was alive, he was still conscious—, he would protect his honor and give him the dignity it was taken away from him when he was nothing but a child. “How could you say something like that?!” he hissed at Merriell as more tears streamed down his cheeks.

Eugene held him back to keep him from jumping on him again. “You said that?”

Merriell shrugged and rubbed his harmed cheek. When he saw the disappointment in his eyes, he grew defensive: “What?! What do _you_ think it happened to him? A fuckin' slave, Sledge! Should I feel guilty for speakin' the truth?!”

“Don't you have some decency?!” he avoided Leonellus as much as possible moments ago to keep Ahkmenrah in good spirits and now the poor boy was both angry and absolutely miserable. “If you don't want to help, that's fine! But stop making things way more complicated!”

“I am not doin' nothin'!” Of course he would say that. He wanted to help him. He wanted Eugene to... give him a second chance. Even if he didn't deserve it. But it was complicated to do so when Eugene clearly moved on from what they had and had no interested in spending more time than necessary with him.

Eugene shook his head and sighed, wrapping his arms properly around Ahkmenrah, comforting him. “We are going to find out what that tablet says and be done with it. If you want to help, act accordingly. If not... Just go back home.”

 _No way_. No way he was going to leave him again. If they end up separated, it was because Eugene decided so. He couldn't do that shit _again_.

*** * ***

Ahkmenrah was far from being a resentful one.

In fact, little after Eugene managed to calm him down and they went out of the hotel, to find the merchant that rented them the light aircraft a couple of days ago, the boy approached Merriell and said that he would really appreciate it if he stopped talking about Leonellus. He sounded quite spoiled when he explained that Merriell was, after all, way beneath his lover and that therefore, he shouldn't even bother voicing his opinions about him. That back in his time, he could have asked for his tongue to be removed. But that he understood things were a little different and that he was willing to forgive him if he finally acted in a respectful way. Or just do what Eugene told him to do: _be nicer_. Maybe they didn't cut his tongue, but he had to bite it. He grumbled and nodded, knowing that he was out of line and that Eugene would eventually want to get rid of him if he kept being an asshole.

Then Ahkmenrah explained him an anecdote about how Set once possessed him when he saw that Leonellus was in danger. That he despised violence, but that in that moment, it was the only solution he could find. He only frowned a bit when he implied that he killed a man to save Leonellus' life. But the thing was that Merriell was pretty sure he also killed someone hoping to save Eugene, even if not so directly. As Eugene did with him.

And because Ahkmenrah was so naïve and refused to hold onto bitterness, that revealed why he was oblivious to the fact that someone might have wanted to murder him. And, in fact, succeeded. That boy was too kind and soft to be a ruler. That was just his opinion.

But, on the other hand, he couldn't help but admire that ability to just move on from something. To forget about it and keep going. Merriell took pride in being an impulsive person, the only problem he had was that he was prone to feeling an unfair amount of guilt. Anyone would say he was the Catholic one.

He stopped after Eugene when the redhead knocked at the door of the shop. Ahkmenrah was still chatting but Merriell was no longer paying attention. Now he understood why the other Marines in King Company sometimes _begged_ him to just shut up. It could be quite annoying after a while.

He raised a finger to his mouth and Ahkmenrah blinked, obeying. Then he smiled again when the door opened, revealing a tired Talib, who was not so in the mood to attend costumers at that hour.

“Yes?” he frowned, still not allowing them in.

Merriell told Eugene it was not a good idea to visit the man at that hour, but it was not let he could tell him what to do. Eugene wanted to be done with that stupid adventure. He wanted to see his name in that article, go back to Philadelphia and be given actual chances to _start_ climbing the ladder.

“I have something you might find interesting.” Eugene announced.

“I am sure it can wait until tomorrow morning.”

“It can't.” Tomorrow morning, Ahkmenrah will be dead. So no, it couldn't wait. And if he didn't pay any attention when Merriell said that he should get some sleep, for sure he wouldn't take the advice of a stranger. “We found Ahkmenrah's tomb.”

When the boy gasped, loving to get some attention, Merriell nudged him with his elbow and shook his head. _Not a damn word_.

“Did you?” Talib didn't look like he was just going to believe a tourist just like that. “Do you have any evidence of that?”

Because his day was so uneventful and he didn't find out anything new, Eugene got the pictures he took inside of the tomb printed. He nodded but instead of sharing those, he decided to be more dramatic about it. Eugene opened Merriell's bag and briefly showed him the tablet. “Can we come in, now?”

“Of course.” Not only did he step aside but also walked behind the counter, willing to make some business. The beautiful golden glow under the moonlight was perhaps too tempting.

Merriell closed the door after them and put his hand on Ahkmenrah's shoulder, making him walk forward and not get nostalgic about the time he was no longer allowed to live. Perhaps some of those trinkets were fake, but reminded him of everything that was now lost. He patted his back and stood close to Eugene.

Talib was visibly confused. “He wasn't here, the last time.” he gestured at Ahkmenrah in French. Strangely enough, the mummy looked like he understood that perfectly because he grinned and waved.

“He's my twin brother.” Merriell merely replied. How else could he be introduced? Eugene sighed, hating that he kept lying. But it was not like they had any other choice, did they?

“He looks way younger.”

 _Way_ younger? Again? Maybe that was starting to bother him. The Cajun resisted the temptation to touch his face. He was only thirty-one for fuck's sake. He had a couple of wonderful decades ahead of him, still.

“I smoke a lot.” he shrugged, refusing to give him any other explanation about it.

“ _Right_.” Talib didn't seem like he wanted to discuss the issue any further, either. “Let's see it.”

Merriell put it carefully over the counter and let the man take his time to inspect it, to make sure that they weren't going to trick him. Then he cleared his throat and drummed his fingers over the wooden surface and nodded. “Do you want to sell it?”

The older veteran grinned widely, willing to negotiate. He was going to make as much money as possible out of this. He could already picture his house with four bedrooms and a porch. He could even hear his kids running around, being chased by their pet. Either a cat or a dog, he would let them choose anything they wanted. Those kids would be the happiest ones in New Orleans. They will get everything he never had.

And if he could have all that _and_ Eugene, then...

But it was the hand of the redhead that squeezed his wrist, to keep him from talking. “We don't want to sell it. We want to _study_ it.”

“Study it?” Talib asked, looking confused. Perhaps he wasn't so used to strangers being actually interested in their story and not only wanting to obtain profit from it.

“Yes. What can you tell us about it?” he insisted.

“Well, I don't know much about it other than the inscription.” he gestured at the nine pieces and the hieroglyphics over them.

“We know that.” Eugene licked his lips, eagerly. “There must be something else that you know.” He had to. When he arrived to Thebes, he made sure to find the man that would know the most about Merenkahre and his family. And Talib was the name that was mentioned the most.

“Ahkmenrah is a mystery.” he explained and Eugene was damn tired. The boy was literally standing in front of him. He was not a mystery, someone made sure to erase his legacy. It was different. “But there is an egyptologist that might be able to help you...” he began. “Her name is Hadiya El-Badawi.” Talib said as Eugene quickly got his little notebook out and scribbled her name. “I bet that if you give her a call and tell her you found out something about Ahkmenrah, she will want to receive you at her own house. She has been trying to prove his existence for a while.” The boy let out a small sigh. So they didn't forget about _completely_! “I heard she found a little annotation about him and a slave, but it was very _inconclusive_.” Ahkmenrah parted his lips but Merriell shook his head. “She knows the tale about his birth _perfectly_. And Khonsu is mentioned a few times.” he gestured at the tablet. “But let me tell you... It would be such a shame for this beautiful tablet to gather dust in a museum, don't you think?”

“That's not up to us to decide.” Eugene replied, grabbing the tablet and putting it back inside of Merriell's bag. He wouldn't ask Talib for her number, he might ask a far too expensive price for that. And he was a reporter, after all. It was part of his job to find the information he needed. “Thank you for your help.”

“Now, there must be something you might want.” he insisted.

“No. Not really.” Eugene concluded as he forced Merriell to turn around. Ahkmenrah followed after one last smile.

“Don't know about you, but I'll be back.” Merriell announced after the redhead closed the door after them.

“Hush, you.” he grumbled.

Eugene was not the only person that visited Talib. A few hours earlier, before Fredericks found him, he visited the man and asked many questions. When his son Husain confirmed that an Amercan reporter —a redhead— and his friend were there a couple of days ago, he quickly turned to the father. He told Talib that he was in possession of something that he wanted. And that if, for some reason he had the chance to buy it from Eugene or merely saw him carrying it, that he would give him a good part of all the relics and artifacts that he stole from Merenkahre's tomb.

The offer was too _generous_ for him to ignore it.

Thankfully, he caught Fredericks at his hotel when he called. He was in a rush, saying that he had to go back to Cairo as soon as possible. He changed his plans when he told him that Sledge had the tablet and plans to stay in Thebes for another day, at least.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You say we didn't have a chance. I say you didn't want to try.” Eugene took a deep breath and slowly pushed him away. Merriell released him with pleading eyes. He couldn't do this, right now. He was too tired. Too... damn exhausted of this. He almost desired Webster never mentioned his name to write his story. He should have waited for another chance. He rubbed his forehead and whispered: “I'm tired of talking about the same damn thing, over and over again. You have no right to ask anything from me. Not a fucking thing. So now, leave me alone. I've got things to do. Get out.”  
> “Eugene...”  
> “Not a letter, not a call in six years, Merriell. Six long years. There was plenty of time to fix it.” he whispered. “Now it's too late.” he sounded defeated. “So get out.”

Eugene insisted on booking another hotel room. That even if Merriell got Fredericks off their backs, it would be wise to move, _just in case_. The Cajun thought about arguing with him and letting him understand that it was unnecessary, but after getting scolded by him and slapped by the mummy a few hours ago, he didn't feel like dealing with more unnecessary confrontation. That not to mention how he was starting to get a little tired of this foolish adventure. He wanted to sell the damn thing and go back to New Orleans. And then... find a way to forget him. And this time _for good_. Eugene would never look at him the way he did before he left that train. It was his decision to leave, and he had to accept it.

It was about damn time.

Their new hotel room was, in fact, two rooms: one double and one single with the privacy of a door between them. Eugene already let him know that he would be sharing with Ahkmenrah. That they were going to learn how to get along for everybody's sake and that he needed silence to start working on his article. Merriell didn't mind much sharing his room with a corpse, it was when he was alive and _talking_ when he annoyed the shit out of him.

But hearing him die... It made him feel uneasy. The way he coughed and how Eugene tried to soothe him with the promise of coming back tomorrow night. That he would find a way to reunite him with _Leonellus_.

Merriell _tried_ not to think much about the fact that they looked exactly like two people who lived four thousand years ago, but sometimes he couldn't help but visualize their romance and he became even far more jealous. Eugene would have loved him without a doubt under those conditions. Merriell was no prince: he had no manners and no money. He was just a tired and broken war boy, like many others. One that no one would want sitting at their table. Even less the perfect picture of a southern Catholic family such as the Sledges. He sighed and grew bitter. Why couldn't he be what Eugene wanted? What Eugene deserved? Why did he had to be just... the man that he was? He had ambition, he was hard-working. Why didn't he progress in life? Why did he get screwed over and over again?

He closed his eyes and focused on Eugene's voice, muffled due to the closed door. He knew well that he was selfish and cruel to feel like Eugene shouldn't be so kind to him considering that he was dying. _Literally decomposing_. Merriell saw the kid with his flesh grey and dry; not something you'd want to deal with every single night for sure, but... Eugene comforted him like a sick child. During the war, Merriell remembered a couple of times when Eugene approached him when he became far too quiet. When he felt disconnected from his surroundings; disgusted with himself. At night, Eugene sat down next to him and whispered sweet little promises close to his ear, squeezed his fingers and swore that they would survive. That they would make it and life would be good, again. Eugene was there for him when he needed him the most and he lacked the bravery to reach out for his hand.

He was always there and he lost him. God, what they had was born during the worst years of their lives, in the ugliest place a man could imagine and yet, it was... It was beautiful and he killed it with his bare hands. Now it was a fair punishment to hear him talk like that to someone else. And even if Merriell should understand that such care was not attraction but perhaps compassion, he still saw them hugging and that intimacy was hard for him to accept when he decided to give it away six years ago after taking the worst decision possible.

“Fuck...” he huffed and rubbed his forehead, allowing himself to sit down on the bed. That guilt would eat him alive, someday. He has been quiet for too long.

Eugene found him a few minutes later, after Ahkmenrah's heart stopped beating, on his bed and with his head over his hands. He closed the door after him and the soft click didn't encourage Merriell to look at him. The redhead refused to act on the pang of empathy that he felt. He acted like a complete asshole and even if he knew that sometimes there was a reason behind the way he acted, he also knew that sometimes he just felt like being mean merely for the sake of it. It entertained him. That often pushed Eugene to ask him about his childhood since he was quite convinced that Merriell was once an unruly child that grew to become a reckless man.

“You were an asshole to him.” he eventually said, picking the most distant option that he had. The most honest, too.

Merriell sighed and dropped his hands, looking at him briefly before he said: “I wasn't lyin'.” He was sure that his ending was dramatic, at best. “He was a slave, you know? I get it, it must be unthinkable for a white boy like you to even think that someone that looks like you could be a slave.” Eugene blushed and pressed his lips, _quiet_. “But from my understandin', bein' a slave can't be all too dignifyin', no matter the time.”

“How would you feel?” Eugene snapped. He felt that was the only way he could tackle that issue. “How would you feel if you were in his position? He has no hope. No guarantee that he will ever return to those he loved.”

“Aren't you supposed to believe in life after death?” Merriell snorted. _Catholic only when it was convenient?_

“I believe in death.” He lived surrounded by it for a few years.

The Cajun looked at him for a few seconds before he stood up. “You are fond of him, aren't you?”

“Look at him, he's as lost as he can be. Some help won't hurt him.” he replied, opening his suitcase. He would work on his article for a few hours, ignore how tired he was and how desperately needed to sleep.

“You are fond of him. You _like_ him.” Merriell accused him. He liked him for having all the things he lacked such as innocence. Would Eugene have loved him if he had been untouched by tragedy and rejection? If that smile was always on his face since he assumed that his enemies weren't such because, after all, they were so beneath him?

Eugene shook his head. It was ridiculous. It was stupidly ridiculous. “He is nineteen!” he turned to face him, tired of him feeling in the position to keep bringing up that idea. He had no right. None. Married with a daughter and no ring, damanding loyalty from a failed relationship. Good God, he didn't want to think so poorly of Merriell, but sometimes it was complicated not to. “I'm ten years older than him!” Again, at that point of his life when childhood and pristine souls were left behind a long time ago, he considered that difference far too great to ignore. Eugene no longer craved the butterflies on his stomach and sweet kisses on a meadow. Those things no longer interested him. He needed, _craved_ , someone that would see how damaged he still was, perhaps that he would _always_ be, and could still appreciate him.

He wanted to be loved. He wanted to share his life with someone. He wanted that, _truly_. But he was too scared of being abandoned again. And the reason why such fear had so much power over him still was standing right in front of him. Why did he leave him? Why did he have to hurt him so badly? He loved him. Wasn't that enough?

Merriell licked his lips and shrugged, with a small voice: “He is actually 4,000 years older than y—”

Eugene interrupted him: “And dead half of the time!”

“So what?!” he inquired. “So fuckin' what?!”

“You don't think that's important?” he questioned, stunned, like it wasn't a huge _dealbreaker_.

Merriell was so blinded by jealousy and frustration that he couldn't see the situation clearly. “Then why are you so fuckin' fond of him? Why do you treat him like that? You treat me like shit! You won't even let me touch you. Or talk to you... Have a fuckin' conversation with you!”

“I tried to have a conversation with you!” The answer he got in the ship that took them to Thebes left Eugene without any desire to come back for more. “It's you who didn't want to have a conversation!” Merriell left in silence, without an explanation or a goodbye. “So don't you _dare_ to put this on me!” he stepped forward, reducing the distance between them. “I don't want you to touch me! I don't even want to look at you! Do you think this is easy for me? That this is fun? You _abandoned_ me!” And for a second it looked like Eugene would cry. That all his misery and anger were about to become tears. Instead he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “You took what we had and you _killed_ it. It's on you, not me.”

“It was the best for you!” Merriell screamed, unable to stay quiet anymore. “It's was the best thing I could do for you and you can't fuckin' blame me for wantin' you to have what you deserved!”

“What _I_ deserved?! Did I deserve to wake up without you after you promised to come home with me? Did I deserve that? Then I must have been the worst man you came across with, to deserve such thing!”

“Look at me!” he reached out and grabbed Eugene's shirt, pulling him closer. He didn't let him go, this time. “Look at me, goddamit! Can't you fuckin' see what I was tryin' to do?! Look at me and tell me that a life by my side was worth riskin' everythin' else!” His family, living in the town where he grew up, being able to afford an education. Plenty of things that could have easily disappeared with him being there by his side. “You can't say that! We both know it's not true! We didn't have a damn chance! Not one!”

Merriell said something similar in San Diego. _Look at me_ sounded awfully similar to _someone like me_. Like Eugene had to finally notice something that he managed to hide for so long. Like Merriell tricked him. How could he? There was no pretending in war. You get to know someone's true character through Hell.

“At that point I only wanted to be happy.” Eugene confessed, feeling the Cajun's fingers trembling over his elbows. He was nervous. Shaken. He could see it. He wanted to help him tame that fire inside of him, but... _No_. “And you were what made me the happiest. Life had a meaning by your side. I could turn to you. I could always turn to you. You understood. You were loyal.” He was always looking after him and Eugene felt loved. Even with one simple look, as a way for him to understand he wasn't alone. He couldn't be touched or kissed, but Merriell's eyes were on him and he wasn't alone. “I needed you.” he licked his lower lip, needing a second to keep talking: “I am not saying this to give you power, I am saying this so you know how I felt. But you were and probably will be, no matter how much I hate it, the man I loved the most. And I don't think it's fair to make others compete against you. You were the _first_ man I loved. I don't care if you hate that. I don't care if that's too much for you to bear. It's the truth, and to me, it was important. It opened a door I kept locked for so long, Merriell. _I loved you_.” His voice wavered at the end. “You say we didn't have a chance. I say you didn't want to try.” Eugene took a deep breath and slowly pushed him away. Merriell released him with pleading eyes. He couldn't do this, right now. He was too tired. Too... damn exhausted of this. He almost desired Webster never mentioned his name to write his story. He should have waited for another chance. He rubbed his forehead and whispered: “I'm tired of talking about the same damn thing, over and over again. You have no right to ask _anything_ from me. Not a fucking thing. So now, leave me alone. I've got things to do. _Get out_.”

“Eugene...”

“Not a letter, not a call in six years, Merriell. Six long years. There was plenty of time to fix it.” he whispered. “Now it's too late.” he sounded defeated. “So get out.”

The worst thing was that Merriell knew that Eugene was right. His argument was solid, like it was something he had to _accept_. Like he explained himself that situation far too many times and that the questions that were left unanswered were something Eugene assumed he would never know.

After swallowing thickly, he nodded and walked out Eugene's room, closing the door between them. He saw Ahkmenrah's body covered by the linen sheets and he forbid himself from thinking any further. He will end up going crazy. How could any of this happen? A few weeks ago he was working a shitty job and trying to buy someone a drink. Now he was trapped in an adventure that made no sense.

He almost missed his mundane, barely satisfying life. At least his old wounds were somehow closed. Not weeping, at least. He fell over the bed, with his shoes on. Facing up, he sighed and caressed his belly. He felt sick. God, he felt so sick. It was like he wanted to throw up. His body always reacted so poorly to anxiety. Always attacked his stomach and throat, either making his retch or even vomit. With his eyes closed and massaging his flesh right above his navel, he could tame the feeling. Fuck, why did he leave him? Why did he leave him when he loved him so much? That was a mistake. That was a fucking mistake and he was the only one to blame. Eugene loved him and he decided to leave. But what if they had a chance? Well, he never tried. He would never know, but... The idea of spending long and lazy Saturday mornings with Eugene and even agreeing going to church on Sunday with Eugene now seemed to be the perfect idea of happiness. One that was created just for him. Either observe him while he read a book or while he prayed, soft and low under his breath. Little things that would have made his life the most beautiful one ever experienced by a man. With their fingers lazed together over Eugene's knee or perhaps healing them after Eugene cut or burned them, showing his lack of skills in the kitchen.

He could have had all of that but he let his insecurity stand in the way. What did he have, now? Nothing. Not a single thing. His cousin Roe taught him a very important lesson by deciding to move to Philadelphia. That's where he was supposed to be. Lou claimed it was the best decision he could take. _When you love someone, well, you gotta take that risk, Merry_ , she said once, unaware of how much it hurt him to hear that. When Merriell called Roe and asked if he was worth it, Roe replied: _Any other life away from him would had been a lie_.

He fucked up so bad.

But he still wanted that: to share his life with someone. Have a house where he could live, have a family he could take care of. Merriell hated loneliness. It was vital for him to have people he could look after. But... Was that what he _truly_ wanted? Or was that a family that he craved as a way to numb the need he still had to recover Eugene? Was it fair to marry someone and have children when it was Eugene who he wanted? He would renounce to _everything_ in a heartbeat if he had Eugene. Then... Why was it so unthinkable to assume that Eugene would have wanted to do the same for him?

The problem was that Merriell didn't want him to choose perhaps because he wanted him to have everything he had before the war. Perhaps because he wasn't sure if he could win. Perhaps _both_.

The veteran turned his head to the side and mumbled: “Was your story as complicated as mine? Did you screw up as badly as I did?”

Ahkmenrah didn't answer.

_Maybe_ he didn't like it so much when he was silent, after all.

*** * ***

It wasn't until a few hours later that Merriell heard Eugene whimpering.

At first it was soft and he thought he was just dreaming. That he finally passed out and that fell asleep while working on his article. It was about damn time, because since this story began, he didn't remember seeing Eugene even take a nap. How he could function like that, he didn't know, and even if Merriell was far from being the epitome of health or even knew how to take care of himself properly, he doubted that could be beneficial for him in any way.

It woke him up and he sat down, looking at the closed door. He caressed the back of his neck and as the whimpering became a little louder and slightly more desperate, he stood up and rested a hand over the wooden surface. It wasn't the first time he heard that. He shared foxholes with Eugene, and then proper rooms. He knew he had nightmares. His mind had a hard time _switching off_ to give him some proper rest. After six years, he still struggled with that problem. Merriell could understand. The things he brought from the war were still with him. They found a home in his flesh and bones and they would _never_ leave him.

But did he have the right to comfort him, as he once did? At first, he didn't get to be as reassuring as he would have wanted to be. Just make sure that Eugene would be quiet so the other members of the company wouldn't turn on him. The both of them knew what could happen to him if he revealed their position. Even Eugene, at some point, declared that it was the lesser evil and Merriell could only agree with him. He would always back him up.

And yet, as soon as Eugene started screaming, he decided to ignore the little voice that told him that he didn't deserve to do that. Well, he was being tortured in the most intimate way. He wouldn't just let him suffer like that. Merriell opened the door and saw Eugene tossing and turning on the bed, pleading. Trying to escape from enemies' hands and all the violence and carnage of war that was still embedded in his brain.

He approached him slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and resting a careful hand over his shoulder. “Eugene.” he didn't shake him, he squeezed his arm. He kept squirming and begging. “Eugene!” he grabbed his other arm and pressed his back against the mattress, so he would be able to see him as soon as he opened his eyes. “It's me, Snaf! It's fine! I'm here, okay? Wake up, we are safe here!”

Eugene's hazel eyes were focused on him but it was clear that he didn't see him. The redhead clenched his jaw and a few tears streamed down his cheeks, holding back another squeal and trying to sit up. Merriell leaned back slightly and gave him some room to move, but not enough to get out of bed. “Hey!” he shook him and then Eugene looked at him, tired and confused. “It's me.” he whispered, caressing his arms up and down, soothingly. Eugene breathed his name and he nodded: “Yeah, it's me, boy. We are fine. _Safe_.”

He bowed his head forward, like it weighed a ton. It was the exhaustion that came from suffering nightmares night in night out for the last six years and the promise that it would keep happening until the very end. It was like being cursed; doomed. Eugene covered his face with his hands and breathed shakily. His fingers trembled over his features and Merriell looked at him. He loved him. He had to take care of him. He couldn't just let him suffer like that.

“It's fine, it's over now.” His voice was so tender as he wrapped his arms around him, hugging his nervous body against his, with steady hands and his palm smoothing the wrinkled fabric of his shirt. “C'mon...”

It took Eugene few seconds to react. He must have felt so helpless if he turned to Merriell for some comfort. Still, his hands moved from his face to the Cajun's waist. His touch was so light, _doubtful_. Knowing that he was making a mistake, but that little contact filled Merriell with life. It was like he was that stupid kid as soon as the Sun set. Like his flesh became plump again and his blood started rushing once more. He held him tighter and nudged Eugene's temple with his forehead.

He no longer felt in control when he gasped: “I'm so sorry, Eugene.” He couldn't even imagine how sorry he was. _No way_. “You were the best thing I had and I left you behind. I'm so fuckin' sorry.” Of course he was. He could have taken care of him. Love him in the most honest way possible. And yet, what did he do? Let his insecurity ruin them.

Eugene waited six years for an apology. For an explanation and an apology and even if Merriell glossed over the main reasons behind why he walked away, he felt like something inside of him became warmer and slightly stronger. Like it began to heal. He needed to hear that apology. He needed to hear Merriell accepting that he did the wrong thing. That he made a mistake because Eugene was worth keeping.

So, against better judgment, he held him back, tight and desperate.

After being rejected ever since he saw him again after those years, Merriell received that smidge of affection like a _treasure_. He sighed heavily and leaned his head against Eugene's squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to obtain the most of it: the warmth of his body, the faint salty smell of his sweated forehead, the way his shoulder blades moved under one of his arms, as he kept him close to his body. How could he live without it? How could he accept the fact that he would have to continue without this now that he got to taste it again? How could he get him back? His life will be grey and uneventful without him. He will miss the joy that came with seeing him walking around his little house and hearing his voice when he made it back after work. To open the drawers of his bedroom and only see his clothes was the most terrible fate Merriell could imagine as they held.

“I'm so sorry.” Merriell breathed once again. He didn't know if he would cry. He didn't even know if was crying, already. All he knew that was that Eugene finally let him hold him. And after so long, it both hurt and healed him. “I let you go. I was scared. I was so scared, I had to leave. I didn't... dare to go with you.”

_You were worth it, it was me who didn't have the courage to do it_. That was what Eugene needed to hear. He would have fogiven him. When someone earnestly regrets, they deserve forgiveness. That didn't mean you had to welcome them back in your life, but Eugene remembered well the conversation he had with his father. That was, in fact, only time he ever spoke about Merriell with him. _Sometimes pride won't take you anywhere_ , Edward said with a caring hand over the crown of head, gently caressing his hair as he did when he was a little boy.

Eugene wanted to forgive him, but at the same time he didn't. He hurt him. He hurt him so badly. When you are left behind, it's only natural to assume you were the one to blame, even more when no explanation is given. He suffered when he arrived home. Many things tormented him and not having Merriell was one of them. Some nights it what hurt the most; others the memory of war clouded the Cajun's face and the train that took him to Mobile. But he thought about him. And that first relationship shaped the way he interacted with men now; distrusting them and shutting them out before given them a proper chance to know him. Love proved to be a terrible experience for Eugene, why bother trying a second time?

But now he was in Merriell's arms, being comforted and asked for forgiveness. He was given back some of the power he used to have. _I can't say no to you_ , Merriell confessed once among kisses. Eugene pressed his forehead against Merriell's. His eyes were on him. Of course, they would _always_ be on the redhead. Eugene looked down for a second and the older man moved in closer, almost desperate not to lose whatever that he could achieve. Eugene would swear that he heard Merriell whine, as a soft and needy way to ask him not to stop this. _Not yet_. He looked up again and licked his lips. He shook his head lightly. He shouldn't be doing this. He should be wiser than this. He could merely stand up, say that he was forgiven but that their paths separated in the past and that they should simply accept it. And yet, he didn't and his fingers were already caressing the back of his neck, over the collar of his shirt.

Merriell closed his eyes and _shivered_.

It only took one second to make that mistake even _worse_. Eugene didn't know why he kissed him, but he did. Was he drunk with the idea of power or did he miss him past rational thinking?

The touch of their lips was short and Merriell breathed heavily after it; his jaw tight and his eyebrows furrowed. His lips tingled with a familiar sensation. Merriell knew how it felt to be thirsty and have nothing to drink. And he knew how it was to finally have some water after those agonizing hours. This felt awfully similar to that feeling of getting what your body —and even mind— desperately needed at last.

Eugene didn't know why he kissed him and neither did Merriell, but it didn't matter.

Their lips met a second time and that was more than a mistake, now. It was the desire they both had for each other. That something that refused to die. Warm embers were capable of starting a fire out of just a gust of wind and some straw. It was both impressive and frustrating to see how they remembered exactly what the other one liked and enjoyed. Eugene's fingers moved from his neck to Merriell's hair and held onto his curls, pulling gently. The Cajun moaned and leaned forward, parting his lips and touching Eugene's tongue with his tip. Soft and sweet as he remembered, it was like he was dreaming. The only difference would be that in something his mind made up, Eugene's cheeks wouldn't be moist. He would have no reason to cry if it was up to him.

The kiss got heated very easily. Their hands were more eager and their teeth nipped and pulled, with the eagerness of wasted time. Oddly enough, at the very same time, it was like those six years had been, as much, six days of departure. Their bodies knew how to react in that situation. The only thing that changed slightly was Eugene's disposition. At first, Merriell was the only man he ever had sex with. Now, as soon as his back rested over the mattress, he pulled him down, to feel his weight on top of him, moving his legs out of the way. Not as doubtful as he once was, neither as shy. Merriell knew that change came with experience. It didn't make him less alluring to Merriell. In fact he loved the way he gasped and grabbed his collar again, so he wouldn't escape from him. It was just that the idea that he had the chance to be the _only_ one and he refused to be bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

Merriell broke the kiss to fill his lungs with air. Eugene chased his mouth and pecked his cupid bow, making him absolutely delirious. He kept his eyes closed and he thought about thanking God or whoever that was up there to let him have this again. “I've missed you.” he breathed, heavy and honest, caressing Eugene's face with his hands.

“Tell me.” Eugene pleaded. He needed to know that he thought about him as he did. That he missed him as much as he did; day and night for different reasons each time. Missing his smile, missing his hands, missing his scent, missing everything that someone could long from other person's existence. “Tell me, tell me.” he repeated, out of breath before he kissed his lips again.

“All the time, boy. Minute after minute. I fucked it up.” the Cajun confessed after the kiss, with Eugene's taste lingering over his lips. He licked them and exchanged quick and moist kisses, interrupting his little speech. “Everythin' changed. You made life way better and I let you go. You've got me in the palm of your hand, still. You gotta know that.” Anything he would want him to do, he would do it. Well, _of course_ he would. He already got on a boat, on a plane and took care of a fucking mummy only because Eugene said so.

That was what Eugene wanted: have his place as someone important in Merriell's life. Like he loved him as much as he did. And then, Eugene sinned with pride and envy. He couldn't help but think if his Lulu ever got to hear that from his lips. If Merriell ever told her that he was willing to follow any command and that she was all he could think about. He wanted to be the person Merriell loved. The _only_ one. But...

He couldn't do that. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't seduce Merriell when Eugene assumed that he was a married man with a little daughter. He couldn't destroy his family, no matter if Merriell refused to wear a ring or that he might be terribly unhappy. He promised to love someone in the eyes of God. Eugene's was raised to respect marriage as a sacred union and he... As much as he hated it, he was just a man and they lost their chance. Now it was too late.

Reason and guilt hit him all at once and the regret had to be clear in his hazel eyes because Merriell asked what was wrong, holding onto him, not ready yet to let him go again.

“I can't do this.” he mumbled, placing his hands on Merriell's shoulders, gently pushing him away. The Cajun resisted and begged him. He shut his eyes closed, not wanting to see the desperate look in Merriell's eyes or the soft plumpness of his lips after kissing. “It was a mistake. I... I am sorry.” He couldn't stand in the way. Merriell had a family and he was only there to get money. He said so himself: he needed the money, not a lover. And Eugene would never allow himself to fall under that label. He wouldn't become a secret or someone's second choice. Only the idea of agreeing sharing Merriell made him sick. Either all or nothing. “I can't do this. And you can't do this, either.” he had a family back home. No matter how complicated the situation could be, he owed his wife loyalty and fidelity. Those vows meant something. They _had_ to. Eugene couldn't stand in the way. He shouldn't and he won't, no matter what he wanted or how badly.

“Eugene. Please, look at me.” his hands now cupped his face and the redhead still kept his eyes closed, shaking his head lightly. “ _Please_.” he gasped, kissing his face, aiming for his lips one last time before Eugene turned his head away. Merriell leaned his forehead against his and panted: “I'll do anythin' that you want, but don't shut me out, please.” Because after getting a little bit of him, he wouldn't be able to forget about it and carry on. He couldn't ask him to do that. Not after getting to kiss him again and having an ounce of hope that they could get what they used to have back.

“I'm sorry.” Eugene shook his head, this time firmly. He gently pushed him again until Merriell had to lean back, not looking away from him or even blinking at any moment. Eugene got off the bed and straightened his clothes, clearing his throat and convincing himself that this never happened. “I've... I've got things to do. I'll be back later.”

And then he walked out of the room after grabbing his shoes and his bag.

*** * ***

“Something happened?” Ahkmenrah asked with a low voice, eyeing Eugene's back, who was walking in front of them, tense as he could be.

“No.” Merriell grumbled, now missing that deathly silence of his corpse.

“Eugene is very quiet tonight.” he commented, like he didn't see how irritated Merriell already looked. “You are quiet too.” he raised his eyebrows with a small and sweet smile. “You can tell me about it, I might be able to help you.”

Merriell thought that ever since they argued and smacked him across the face, Ahkmenrah was especially condescending. He hated that kid. He hated that kid _with burning passion_.

“Nothin' happened.” he insisted.

“You see, maybe the Gods punished you for what you said about Leonellus.” he began with his ramblings and Merriell stopped listening to him altogether. The world did not spin around his darling slave, that's for sure. “Sekhmet was the one who welcomed Leonellus. And she's a ruthless woman. The Lady of Terror!”

“ _Right_.”

“So you can trust me. I give wonderful advice!” he nudged his side with his elbow.

“Just... shut up, will you?” Merriell huffed as he stopped, rubbing his forehead. The Prince blinked but did the same as Eugene was knocked at El-Badawi's door.

As soon as Eugene left the hotel, he made sure to keep himself busy. He found El-Badawi's contact and called her, asking to meet her. At first she was clearly uninterested but when he mentioned Ahkmenrah and his tomb, she told him that she was willing to accept his visit. She even agreed when Eugene suggested seeing her after dinner.

The redhead looked at the other two as he waited for the door to open. Ahkmenrah continued to smile, remembering that he had to stay quiet and not reveal his identity _no matter what_. Merriell decided to not make things more complicated for the very first time in his life.

“Sledge?” El-Badawi was a woman in her early forties with a pointy chin, short curly hair and dark eyes. When Eugene nodded, she offered her hand and shook it firmly. “Gentlemen.” she nodded at Ahkmenrah and Merriell before greeting them in English. The reporter mentioned that he was travelling with two colleagues: a photographer and a documentalist, brothers the two of them. Just a little white lie. “Come with me. I have everything we need in my study.”

As they followed the professor, Merriell couldn't help but notice that the woman was wearing a pair slacks similar to the ones his cousin Lou owned. Other than that, he would never be able to compare her to other women. Even if she was married and a proper adult, she would always be a girl in his eyes. But in that moment, he missed her foolish advices. How come that he rejected Ahkmenrah's and longed for Lou's when they both sounded just as clueless?

_Because Lulu never kissed Eugene, that's why_ , his brain told him right away.

He sighed as the woman closed the door and stood behind her desk. Ahkmenrah sat on one of the two armchairs she had in front of her table, not even waiting to decide who had the right to take one of the two seats. _Spoiled brat_. Merriell stepped back and tilted his head towards the empty armchair so Eugene could sit down and have a conversation with the woman. The redhead showed his gratitude with a slight yet awkward smile. He was still thinking about _it_ , too.

“How did you find Ahkmenrah's tomb?” El-Badawi sounded a little accusative right off the bat as she sat down.

“I was following Robert Fredericks. At first I believed he only found Merenkahre's tomb, but he was buried with his wife and his son.” the woman nodded at his explanation and by the way she winced when she heard the Brit's name, he could tell she already met him in the past. Or heard about him, at least. “I was wondering if you could explain me a little more about him. I would give you the photographs of everything we found there after he left.”

“He didn't steal the artifacts that were buried with Ahkmenrah?”

“Only the mummy.” Eugene lied again. There was no other option to explain what happened.

“Of course.” she snorted.

“To be fair, he wasn't buried with much, but if you could...” he began, carefully.

El-Badawi nodded and made herself comfortable on her chair. “I've been studying Ahkmenrah's figure for long.” That made Pharaoh smile. So they didn't forget about him completely! “Without much success, I must admit. It was like he was practically wiped from history.”

“How come?”

“Well.” she stood up and walked towards one of her bookshelves. She collected a large folder and put it over the desk before she sat down again. Merriell tilted his head as she opened it and showed them a few photos, pictures, drawings and manuscripts. “Merenkahre had two, alledgedly, two sons with two different women. Kahmunrah was the eldest, son of Iset. And then, about fifteen years later, he had Ahkmenrah whose mother was Shepseheret.” Eugene nodded as he kept listening. “Oddly enough, Kahmunrah, even if he was the eldest, is always mentioned as _Haty-a_ in ancient scrolls.” she pointed the hieroglyphics. Underneath those there was the translation in Arabic. Eugene couldn't understand either of those, so he was awfully grateful for the explanation.

“What does _Haty-a_ mean?” Merriell asked, resting his hand over the back of Ahkmenrah's seat.

“ _Haty-a_ is a noble title, usually given to local princes, mayors and governors. The right term for a crown prince, for Pharaoh's first son, is to be regarded as _Iry-pat_ , the second ruler of the country.” El-Badawi explained. “And yet, he was never called that. He went from being referred as _Haty-a_ to being crowned Pharaoh. I am inclined to believe that it is because the crown prince died.”

Eugene was about to make a question when Ahkmenrah inquired, unable to keep himself quiet: “What do you know about Kahmunrah?” It was only normal that his brother ruled after he died. They were both the heirs of their father.

“A despicable man. A ruthless ruler.” El-Badawi answered. Ahkmenrah blinked, not awfully surprised. His brother was a very complicated man but it made him sad that he didn't manage to reveal a kinder side to their people. “He was criticized even by his own advisors and Vizier. Some of them wrote something along the lines that his reign was like _the shadows engulfed Egypt after the divine light faded_. It might be a bit of a stretch, but by the way it's worded, it makes me think that Ahkmenrah ruled. Not for long, though. If they were fifteen years apart and Kahmunrah's reign began in his mid thirties, then Ahkmenrah must have died as an old teen or a very young adult. But ruled, either way, since his name means the Strength of Ra.” she already began flipping the pages of her folder to find something. “And Ra was the Sun God, the one that offered light.”

She was about to pull out another picture when Ahkmenrah interrupted her: “His Vizier... Kawab?” Eugene stepped on his right foot lightly and Merriell pinched his back, asking him to _shut up_. Ahkmenrah winced slightly and pouted.

“...No, that was not his Vizier.” El-Badawi frowned, a little confused, forgetting about the photo for a moment. “How do you know his name, anyway?”

“He is the documentalist I told you about. He knows a bit about their dynasty.” Eugene lied, as quick as humanly possible. Merriell couldn't help but feeling a little bitter about it. And then he accused _him_ of lying.

“Of course...” she nodded. “Well, Kahmunrah executed Kawab, Merenkahre's cousin, for treason as soon as he became Pharaoh. We don't really know why.” Ahkmenrah parted his lips and frowned. How come? Everybody trusted Kawab. He was the most honorable man in their realm. The one everybody turned to. That _must_ be a mistake. “There are some scrolls written by Kawab that are quite confusing. I'll show them to you in a bit, but first...” she finally placed the photograph in front of them. “As I told you, his name meant the Strength of Ra, right?” Eugene nodded lightly. “This is the _only_ written text that can evidence his existence.” she smiled, clearly enjoying talking about the mysterious Prince. That woman had passion for their history, unlike Fredericks who only wanted to benefit from it. “For some... It has been disregarded as a tasteless joke, but... Well. Let's say that some of my peers would deny that there is a sky over our heads if it was me who to claim such.” El-Badawi pointed at the picture and then she showed an enlarged detail of the scripture on the corner of the original papyrus. “ _The Prince used the slave's real name and lovingly called him Leonellus. He, the one with the Strength of Ra, did to the slave what His Majesty desired_.”

Eugene raised his eyebrows and Ahkmenrah looked both delighted and proud. Merriell couldn't stand that kid. Was it necessary to leave _so_ clear that he fucked his partner when he only got a kiss from Eugene and plenty of frustration? _Not fair_.

“Who would write something like that?” Merriell huffed. He probably would, but it wouldn't sound as _poetic_ for sure.

“An unknown scribe.” El-Badawi answered. “This is just a disregarded copy a report of the harvest of the new year. Something that was hardly important. Probably set aside because of this, but from it we can affirm that he grew to be old enough to experience sex and that he had a lover. A Greek lover, judging by the name.”

“Not because the name is Greek that means he had to be Greek!” Ahkmenrah blurted out. “He could be... Roman, for example.” They had to know about Leonellus. They had to know how precious he was to him and how much he loved him. Merriell pinched him again, harder than before and Eugene squeezed his knee, this time. The Prince bit his lower lip. Right. _Quiet_.

“It's the most sensible assumption. Sadly, I don't know much about him. Anything you discovered in that tomb will help me greatly with my investigation.” El-Badawi looked intently at Eugene.

He nodded and opened his bag, collecting the pictures he took inside the tomb and the ones he took of the tablet that afternoon while ignoring Merriell in the most blant way possible.

Ahkmenrah proved that he was not used to follow orders from anyone when he spoke one more: “Could you tell us what did Kawab say in those scrolls?” Eugene sighed and Merriell resisted the urge to slap the back of his neck.

“I only have a few, I have the feeling that Kawab's memory, very much like Ahkmenrah's, was erased and considering that Kahmunrah was the one who executed him, then...” Both veterans understood what she implied. The Prince seemed oblivious to it. He could never see his brother as an enemy, only a complicated person to love. “The Vizier seemed to be convinced that no land would ever conquer Egypt.” she offered Ahkmenrah a copy and transcription of the original parchment. “That didn't age well.” El-Badawi sighed mournfully. “What I don't understand is that he constantly uses the word _Deshret_ to refer to an enemy. Now, that doesn't make any sense. Ancient Egyptians divided their kingdom in Kemet, the black land, and Deshret, the red land. The desert. It was ruled by Set, to God of Chaos and Fire, and while it was a threat... It was part of their home. And I don't recall of any documents talking about droughts during that time period.”

“Maybe it wasn't the desert. Maybe it was just someone...” Ahkmenrah whispered, sad as he read the confessions of his Vizier. He knew he didn't trust Leonellus but Gods, he hoped he protected him before dying. Or that he gave his life to keep him alive. Anything. Anything to offer his beloved the life he deserved. “Someone he didn't manage to understand...”

“That wouldn't make any sense.” the Professor shook her head. There wasn't any evidence to back that theory. “So, Sledge.” she focused her dark eyes on him. “What did you find in that tomb?”

“Not much. It looked like he was buried with his parents momentarily. He was a hidden chamber in Merenkahre's tomb.” he finally put the photographs he took over the desk. Merriell carried the tablet with him, but there was no need to tell El-Badawi. They needed it to figure out how to use it to help Ahkmenrah.

“Was he...?” she frowned and took the pictures of the tablet. “Take a look at this...” she whispered, scanning the hieroglyphics. “ _Those who offer their noble heart to Khonsu shall be allowed to walk by my side in the Field of Reeds_.” she easily decoded the inscription and hummed. “Interesting... Very interesting.”

“What? What is it?” Eugene asked.

“When Ahkmenrah was born, Merenkahre prayed to Khonsu, the God of the Moon and Travellers, so he would protect his son. It's a beatiful text even if...” she licked her lips and nodded. “A bit flowery. But he does speak about a _key_. Or that is, at least, the best way to translate that word. He speaks of passing, of second chances. He begs for his son to have a long and beautiful life and then he asks Khonsu that when his life comes to end, he must _cross_... And I guess that means pass away, after using the _key_. And that those who will wait for him in the afterlife, in Aaru, will be those who proved themselves worthy of his son's love. During the early part of Egyptian history, Khonsu was considered to be a violent and dangerous god. He was described as _Khonsu who lives on hearts_. But then, with time, he was seen as a young and merciful god. So I don't know if that offering would be symbolic _or not_."

“So the tablet is a key?” Merriell dared to ask.

“It's the only thing I can come up with.” she shrugged. “Translations can never be exact. Words change and deveolp new meanings. Others disappear altogether. There are many concepts we no longer believe in and therefore, have no use for those terms.”

“What could it open?” Eugene inquired.

“Hard to tell.” El-Badawi answered. “It's in your possession?” Eugene shook his head. _Again, lying_. “Fredericks has it, then.” This time he nodded. She sighed with disgust and left the pictures of the tablet aside. “An ushebti made of clay...? That's unusual.”

Ahkmenrah looked at the picture and something made his heart race. They buried him with the figurine that was supposed to symbolize Leonellus' freedom. Did he die as a slave, then? He furrowed his eyebrows and swallowed, thickly. _No_. No, there must have been someone on Leonellus' side.

El-Badawi took the picture of the parchments that Eugene found in Ahkmenrah's tomb and translated the first lines: “ _With his green eyes and his linen skin, my litte lion shapes my idea of beauty_.” In any other situation, Ahkmenrah would be ashamed of his foolish poetry being read out loud, but he was thinking about all the things he discovered. “ _I long to feel his flaming hair with my fingers and his carnelian lips with my own mouth_.” He lost Leonellus. He failed him and they probably killed him because he wasn't there to protect him. “ _One kiss from him and I would never need to eat or drink again_.” The Prince closed his eyes and took a sharp breath. _Oh, his treasure_. He lost him. Ahkmenrah barely heard Merriell's low voice when he asked if he was fine. “ _No wine would tas—_ ”

Then he stood up, abrutply, and walked out of the study. El-Badawi blinked and tilted her head, confused by the boy's action. Eugene looked at Merriell and the eldest man smiled, tense and cleared his throat.

“My brother is... He loves makin' a scene. Sorry about that. I'll go and get him.” he excused himself as fast as possible and rushed after Ahkmenrah, who was already heading out of the house. “Hey! Hey, you!” he grumbled when the younger man slammed the door shut right on his face. “Fuckin' brat, I swear to God!” He opened the door and found the boy sitting on the step in front of El-Badawi's house. “Don't you fuckin' dare to that again or I'll kick your sorry ass, you heard me?”

Ahkmenrah was holding his knees tight against his chest and with his head bowed forward, defeated and clearly crying. He could hear him sobbing.

Merriell groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling _some_ compassion. He was not good at this. Why did have to get involve in this? Fucking Eugene and the power he had over him. His life would be way easier if he never met him, in first place. But then again... How empty it would be.

“Hey...” he tried again, with a softer voice. He rested a hand over Ahkmenrah's shoulder and crouched in front of him. “C'mon... Tell me what's wrong.”

“Everything!” the Prince raised his face, his cheeks were moist and his grey eyes showed a misery that _finally_ made him look way more alike to the boy Merriell used to be when he was his age. “Everything is wrong! This was not supposed to happen. Osiris, I don't care I died. For whatever reason, I don't mind!” For them, death was far from being the end. It was hard for Merriell to wrap his mind around it when he saw so many Marines collapsing on the battlefield without any more consequence than a splash of blood and mud. No cruise towards the afterlife and no Dog-God there to judge no one. “But we were supposed to be _together_.”

“Listen, we don't know wha—” he was clearly backtracking. Last night he said awful things about Leonellus' fate. He still thought the very same, but he wanted to be _good_. Maybe Eugene would change his mind if he behaved.

“Whatever that happened... We are not together. We are apart! Worlds apart! And to think... Gods, to think he died while being a slave... Th-That...” he sobbed, shaking his head.

The Cajun sighed and moved his hands over Ahkmenrah's knees, to keep his balance and squeeze them tight, hoping to offer some comfort. “We'll find a solution. Eugene promised to help you, kid. And he's stubborn as fuck, okay? He'll find a way.”

“I can't even _dream_ with him.” he whispered as more tears rolled down his cheeks. “I can only miss him and I do _all the time_. Every single moment that I am alive. He's all I think about.” He only had to close his eyes and he would see those carnelian lips and linen skin, as he described them thousands of years ago. “Gods, what did I do wrong?” What did he do to be cursed like this? “Why am I forced to carry on without him?”

Yeah, Merriell was seeing himself more and more in Ahkmenrah and while in his story there were no palaces and no Gods involved, only a train and his poor judgment, they both had to deal with the tragedy that ended in the departure of the lovers. Survive an unfinished story was a hard fate to overcome.

“C'mere...” Merriell held him to comfort him. Ahkmenrah's forgiving nature ignored the argument they had yesterday and hugged him back, needing the affection. There was another reason other than being a kind human being behind that embrace. Merriell was trying to comfort himself after the rejection he suffered earlier that day. It was like reconciling himself with that insecure and scared side of himself that often made him act like a doubtful child. He rubbed Ahkmenrah's back and hushed him when the boy kept crying. “You'll get your Leonellus back. We only need to find whatever that tablet opens. You hafta believe. We need you to, do you understand?”

“Imagine living a life without the one that makes it worth it.” The mummy really couldn't picture a more intimate curse. They shaped this doom to made him suffer every single night he opened his eyes. He wanted to hold the Roman boy. To kiss him. To remind him that he loved him. He wanted to be in Aaru, where both of them would be free and happy for all eternity. He good and fair while he was alive, then why did they do this to him?

“Yeah... I can imagine.” he patted his back before he leaned back, holding his elbows tightly, making sure that he would keep looking at him. “But you gotta keep thinkin' about him. You need to keep him in your thoughts. Whatever that you have to do, you'll do it for him. Alright? To see him again. To be with him again.” Just like he was doing. Everything he did since he arrived to this country was in hopes to stay close to Eugene. To win him back after he abandoned him. Today he felt so close and yet so far from him, but... If that kid could have the hope to reunite with his deceased lover, then maybe it wasn't so incredible to believe that maybe Eugene would give him a second chance.

_Hopefully_.

Eugene opened the door of El-Badawi's house, silent enough for neither of them to notice him. As he saw they were close and that Merriell looked at Ahkmenrah with a small and silent smile, he decided not to speak up just yet. He hid himself behind the door and peered through the crack. Then he heard him say:

“Sometimes... You gotta expect somethin' from nothin'. I don't know much about faith,” To him, it didn't seem like it ever worked in anyone's favor. “but sometimes, holdin' onto that will get through anythin'.”

During the war, his strength came from the ridiculous idea that he would return to New Orleans. That he would go back to his family. He was well aware that it was a foolish dream, and sometimes it felt like never would ever go back home. He even said so out loud more than once. But other times... It was either believing his own lies or falling apart. Now, it was something similar with getting Eugene back. He had to believe they had a chance. He _wanted_ to believe they had a chance. They kissed. There was something, still.

Eugene closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. If he turned Merriell's words into something that he has been thinking about all day long then... Of course he could expect something from him. He could expect the world. Eugene wanted to forgive him. Eugene wanted to love him and be loved in return again. That kiss opened the door to a bunch of memories and promises they didn't get to fulfill.

But Merriell was still a married man. He had to be, why would he call that woman _his_ Lulu? Why would he carry the picture of a baby in his wallet? He was married and it made Eugene become an ugly person, full of envy. He wanted to get in the middle, but that was immoral. _What God has joined together, let no one separate_. No exceptions to that rule.

The only thing he could do was find whatever that tablet opened and leave him. Leave him behind and everything they ever felt. It won't bring him happiness. It won't...

God, sometimes Eugene truly regretted not following the advice his father gave him. Now more than ever.

_Too bad_.

Eugene cleared his throat and opened the door before he walked out of the woman's house. “Well.” he sighed and smiled kindly when Ahkmenrah looked at him. He rested his hand over the top of his head and caressed his hair, soothing. Merriell squeezed the boy's forearms before he stood up, looking at Eugene. “That was quite a discovery, huh?”

“Yeah.” he swallowed and nodded. Eugene was no longer as naïve as he used to be, he could tell what Merriell was thinking about.

Ahkmenrah pouted and wrapped his arms around Eugene's waist, resting his cheek against his hip for some comfort. That time Merriell didn't feel jealousy, but sympathy. He would do exactly the same if he needed some affection and if Eugene was willing to give it to him. The redhead rubbed his shoulder and held him against his body.

“It will be alright. You don't have to worry about it. We'll find whatever that tablet opens. And I am sure that whatever that is on the other side or inside, it will bring you closer to Leonellus.” he promised, achieving a little smile from the mummy. “And since the tablet has become so important...” he turned to look at Merriell and extended his hand towards him.

The Cajun crossed his arms: “You don't trust me with it?”

“You keep saying you want to sell it.” he shrugged.

“I do.” They would give him a fortune for it.

“Well, you can't.” he insisted. “ _Please_.”

And maybe it was the power Eugene had over him or the fact that he wanted to show him how willing he was to do whatever he wanted to earn his trust back, but Merriell didn't complain any further when he pulled the tablet out of his bag and gave it to him.

When their fingers touched as the younger veteran took the tablet and thanked him with such a low voice, Merriell felt like he could keep asking for more and that he would agree every time just to hear his voice and feel his skin during every offering.

Thankfully, Eugene wasn't greedy.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, give me a break! Don't get all protective now!” he slapped his hands away in the same moment that those came in contact with his cheeks. Merriell tensed his jaw, seeing how they were back on the starting point with Eugene rejecting his touch with pure distaste. “You don't get to do that! In fact, drop that fucking attitude of yours, Merriell. It's disgusting!”  
> “Disgusting.” he repeated the word. Oh, Eugene knew how to hurt him. So intimate, so personal. Like a dagger between ribs after a tender embrace.  
> “Yes!” he stepped back, running a hand through his hair, still shaken after the terrible day that he had and the jealousy he was currently experiencing. “You act like you still have the right to demand things from me. Guess what? You don't!” They weren't anything, anymore. They never were, to begin with. Merriell couldn't ask Eugene for fidelity or love. He lost those when he walked away. “Maybe, instead of buying your Lulu a fucking present, why don't you try and be a better husband and actually wear your wedding band?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were plenty of typos in this chapter and I'm sure I didn't get them all but... Hey, I tried.

**MOBILE, AUGUST 1946**

It was pouring that morning but it didn't make the weather any more tolerable. Only humid and the back of Eugene's neck was soaked with sweat as he kept playing with his glass, now empty. The faint taste of sweet tea was still lingering on his lips: the ice was melting and he felt tempted to drink it, just to cool his mouth.

 _Maybe this is the kind of weather they get in New Orleans more often than not_ , he tried to comfort himself, like him not being in Louisiana was the best thing that could have happened.

Eugene was now old enough to know that he was only licking his wounds, as he has been doing ever since he made it back. It even started to upset his mother, who practically pleaded him to do _something_. September would start in a couple of weeks and he _had_ to do something. _Study or work_ , but he couldn't stay home, _all day long_ , still doing _nothing_ since February.

Anyone would think she was about to give him a deadline. _You either get yourself back on track or you are out of the house_. Eugene was expecting her to say something like that, soon. Maybe during lunch or dinner, when Eugene was too busy playing with his food to keep his guard up.

The problem was that Eugene didn't know what he wanted to do. _Nothing_. That was the only word that came to his mind when he attempted to find a motivation to pursue the dreams he had before the war. It was like they faded. Like they were never there, to begin with. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Not everybody was like his mother —nagging him and reminding him that only men with ambition prospered in life. His father and Sid tried to help him since he came back home, in every way possible, and he couldn't even repay them with a smile. He didn't feel like a person anymore. Even less like someone worth keeping around. And maybe that brought back the memory of Merriell and how he woke up alone in that train. Eugene was still mortified about the fact that he cried in the bathroom of that train, like some tragic heroine from a romantic novel.

Before he could rub his eyes, a caring hand reached him and squeezed his shoulder. Eugene looked up and found his father. The doctor smiled down at him and said: “Such a horrible day, huh?”

“They said on the radio that it would clear up during the afternoon.” Eugene forced himself to reply something more than one word. His father deserved the effort.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he always asked. His father was very different from his mother, who always forced her presence around him when he clearly wanted to be alone. For that reason, Eugene nodded. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked after taking the seat by his side, resting his hand on his knee.

“Just as I felt yesterday.” his answer was sincere even if displeasing. His father was suffering with this situation. He warned him about what the war could do to him but Eugene was so obsessed with the idea of duty and perhaps enchanted with the concept of bravery that he disregarded his words as his father wanting to keep him in the house, safe and stretch his childhood a couple of years more. Eugene forced himself to try a second time: “But it might get better.”

Edward's smile turned a little sad: “It might. Would you want us to do something, maybe? Go somewhere if it does clear up?”

“I wanted to read a bit, this afternoon.” Eugene quickly rejected the offer. He was uninterested in the outside world. He didn't want to see it and he didn't want it to see him, either. He didn't feel like he had anything in common with anyone, anymore.

“I see...” the doctor nodded. This wasn't the first time Eugene refused to make plans with him. His wife shared her worries with him about their son, mostly when he decided to stay home during Sunday mornings. It wasn't only a matter of faith. His son lost his essence. The things that made him the boy he thought he was changed and now he could only see him stumble and get lost even if he was offering him his hand. Who said he could see it, at all? “If you change your mind...”

“ _Yeah_...” He wouldn't.

It was funny how Merriell always told him that he had to be a good son and stay in touch with his parents. The Cajun practically forced him to take a pen and some paper so he would write, even if he scolded him when he caught him scribbling on his Bible. _It's different_ , the older Marine became defensive when Eugene brought it up once, at night. _Your parents worry about you, you are the best thing that happened to them. Honor them and let them know you are still alive and kickin'_ , he said. Now, Eugene felt like a terrible son. Like he was making his parents suffer on purpose by acting that way.

And just like that, with an anecdote, Merriell returned to his mind and Eugene had to leave the glass on the floor before he could even drop it. He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. His father asked him if he was okay and he nodded, far from meaning it but feeling like he had to lie to keep him from worrying any further.

“Eugene...” his father said, softly. He scooted closer and held the back of neck, careless that he was sweating. “I want you to understand... I _need_ you to understand that you can share _anything_ with me. No matter how sad or violent. You are my son and your pain is also my pain. Let me help you.” he practically pleaded.

It's been six months of silence. Maybe that was starting to get to his own father too, no matter how much patience he had. Maybe a part of him was _dying_ to talk.

Something he swore he would never tell _anyone_ came out that ugly morning, without a reason and completely unexpected:

“I fell in love with a man.” Eugene thought about Merriell before, while sharing the table with his parents and he never said anything about him. Then why now? He didn't know the answer to that question. He either he wanted his father to condemn his feelings or obtain an understanding response. _Yes, the latter_. Maybe he was desperate for some empathy. If he truly wanted guilt, he would have made that confession to his mother, instead.

His father blinked and stayed in silence. Eugene didn't have the courage to look up at him. He pulled onto the skin around his nails and focused all of his energy on breathing evenly and resisting the urge to run back to his bedroom.

Then, after what seemed to be an eternity to Eugene, his father asked: “During the war?” the young man jerked his head, tense and already shrugging his shoulders, almost scared that he wanted to engage in that conversation. “Did he make it?”

“Yes.” Eugene nodded a second time. Only a couple of times he allowed himself to think about that scenario. He had the feeling that others could die, but not Merriell. It was like he was too important. But the same he thought about Ack Ack and Hillbilly and they never made it back to their families. Eugene didn't even want to stop and think about the idea of losing Merriell and look at him now, living without him anyway.

“That's good...” he whispered.

Eugene dared to look at him from the corner of his eyes as he held his hands together to keep them from shaking too visibly. His father was smiling slightly.

“I guess...” The now old boy allowed himself to dwell on Merriell's life without him and away from the war. He felt cruel for not wanting him to be happy. Or as happy as he felt he was while being with him. Love was turning him into one selfish and cruel man. It didn't pay off in the slightest.

When he thought that his father would stop talking about it and assume it was over because so was the war, he noticed that he moved closer. His voice become softer, like he was willing to keep his secret while attempting to understand him a little better: “Did he love you back?”

There was when Eugene did his best to hold back the tears. He swallowed the lump on his throat and took a deep breath. He blocked all those memories of Merriell's touches, kisses and promises. They meant nothing to him and therefore, they should mean nothing to Eugene.

 _I think so_ , he wanted to say, but instead, he corrected himself: “I _thought_ so.”

Edward frowned, clearly confused.

Then, for that same unknown reason that pushed him to have that conversation with his father, Eugene whispered: “He left without saying goodbye.” And it didn't feel like the pain that sentence reflected wasn't personal enough. “He left _me_ behind.”

A soft sigh escaped Edward's lips and finally took one of his hands in his. He squeezed his fingers until Eugene gathered the courage to look at him. “He must have been scared, Eugene.” He could only imagine all the things that must have gone through that boy's head and fear seemed to be the most sensible yet saddest possible answer to such broad question.

“ _Scared_?” Merriell was not the kind of man that got scared easily. Nervous and tormented, maybe. But those were feelings that appeared before and after a nerve-racking situation, but he was never caught petrified in the middle of the storm. “No.” he shook his head. “He lied to me.”

“How do you know?”

That made Eugene frown. He didn't expect his father to challenge him. Comfort him, if he was lucky or force him to forget about it, if he was unlucky. But he didn't expect him to try to see things from Merriell's point of view.

“He left after promising he would stay with me.”

“Here? With _us_?” And for some reason it didn't sound like Edward was displeased with the idea but surprised that Eugene would have been naïve enough to think it was the best solution for their problem. He loved his wife, but that didn't mean she was understanding with certain topics.

Eugene blushed with shame and didn't answer.

“Oh, Eugene...” he sighed, like his sin was innocence.

The boy pressed his lips and after a couple of seconds, he tried to stand up. His father didn't let him by gently pulling his hand.

“I can talk to him. Do you have his number?”

Of course his father would try to solve the problem for him. He did that his whole life and Eugene let him, assuming that was the usual dynamic between a father and a son. Meeting other boys that weren't as sheltered as Sid and himself let him understand that what he had was both something he should be thankful for but was also somehow harmful in the long run. Eugene realised how clueless he was when Merriell had to tell him what to do and what not to do every single time.

“I don't have his number.” Eugene didn't even know for sure if Merriell had a phone.

“Where does he live? I'll bring him with me.” he insisted.

It was overwhelming to see how his father was to willing to do anything, even something he considered unwise, to make him happy again. It wasn't that easy. Eugene wasn't only hurting of heartache, and he had the feeling that his father knew that. But his life would had been better if he still had Merriell. But that was no longer a possibility. He _left_ him.

Eugene furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“He doesn't want to be with me, Papa.” Since he returned as a veteran, Eugene forced himself to stop calling him that. Made him feel juvenile and like he needed to be protected. In that moment, all of his insecurity showed up and he had to share the burden with his father. He was unable to deal with it on his own anymore. “He left me because he didn't want to have a life with me.”

Edward sighed and brought his hand to the top of his head. He caressed his hair tenderly and asked: “Are you sure of that?”

“He wouldn't have l—”

“How you know?” he interrupted him.

Eugene tensed his jaw and felt a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them. _None of that, no more crying over someone that doesn't deserve it_.

“How can you be so sure that he left because he didn't love you instead of leaving because he was scared?”

“Scared of what?” Eugene asked and he felt stupid. Merriell must have had the same fears as he did, but no one had to know more than they would have wanted them to. “I mean...” he licked his lips and shook his head. “I would have been there... For anything. I loved him so much.” After covering his face with his hands, he allowed himself to shed a couple more tears.

Edward continued to caress his hair tenderly, understanding. “Do you love him still?”

That was the worst part. Eugene doubted he would ever be able to completely forget Merriell. He was the first man he loved and after having his heart broken, he promised himself he would also be the last. In that moment of weakness, Eugene didn't have it in him to lie and nodded while sobbing.

“Talk to him, Eugene. I will speak with your mother, she won't oppose.”

“I don't have to talk to him!” he snapped. “It was not me who did things wrong!” He gave Merriell everything that he had and he was offered rejection and silence. Why did he have to crawl back to him? Why would his father give him that choice?

“You have to ask yourself if you are better without him or you are just willing to get used to the situation. You have to ask yourself if missing him is worse than forgiving him.” he advised him. “If you want to forgive him and you are not allowing yourself to, then I can only tell you one thing, Eugene... Sometimes pride won't take you anywhere.”

That was where his father was wrong. At that point of his life, the only thing Eugene had left was his pride. And for that same reason, after that rainy morning, he refused to talk about Merriell with his father ever again.

**THEBES, MARCH 1952**

When Merriell woke up, Eugene was already gone.

That he was trying to avoid him as much as possible after the kiss was pretty damn obvious, but he decided to suck it up and pretend, by now, that it never happened. Like the feeling of Eugene's mouth wasn't still lingering over his.

He brushed his lips with his fingers and closed his eyes, focusing on something that barely lasted a few minutes. A simple kiss couldn't satisfy the hunger a man like Merriell had for Eugene. If so, it only made it more voracious. Reminded him everything that he once had, but that he no longer could have. Because... _Could he?_ Could he make this situation right?

How could he convince Eugene that he was sorry and that from the many mistakes he made in his not short life anymore —it was a surprise for everybody that he survived his twenties—, leaving him was the most stupid of them all?

For such a Catholic boy, Eugene was a proud one. He had strong convictions that sometimes became strict morals that kept him from adapting to other people's points of view. When he thought something was wrong, he condemned it with passion. It looked like he was making a living out of that, considering the dedication he put, at first, on chasing Fredericks and wanting to write an article to depict him as a greedy relic hunter... Which he was sure he was. Merriell was not blind to Eugene's flaws, but he accepted them like Eugene accepted his. He just wished that the other would learn to listen and perhaps find kindness in his heart to forgive him.

 _No, not only forgive me, want me back_.

That would be way more complicated. Merriell groaned and rubbed his face.

He didn't have to think about it. And neither he should compare to anything he had with Eugene to Ahkmenrah and the slave boy. Made him bitter and brought out the worst in him.

Was it so goddamn much to ask to have had an _actual_ chance?

He would have taken care of Eugene. He would have provided anything he would have needed. He would have even cooked for him, for God's sake. He would have introduced him to his family and witness how they all got impressed that he got to catch such a proper and intelligent young man. What did he have, instead? Fucking nothing.

The anger and the frustration were knocking at his door. The only thing he could do was ignore it. Walk away and hope to find some entertainment. He had to buy presents for Lou and Ellie and right now, when he was desperate for a distraction, it was the perfect moment. The kid was dead on his bed and that wouldn't be changing until sunset.

Merriell bolted out of the room, clearly running away from his own troubled mind.

Eugene was not handling his problems any better.

He rested only for a couple of hours, enough to be able to keep going. He didn't need to have more nightmares than he already did considering what those eventually led to, yesterday. He was wandering around the streets of Thebes, trying his best to act like a reporter that knew what he was doing. He went to libraries and book shops, attempted to find other experts and egyptologists that could expand the information El-Badawi shared with them yesterday. But no one knew anything about a key and the tablet was starting to feel heavier and heavier each time. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and huffed. If he actually manages to solve this mystery, he will never doubt his own abilities ever again. How many reporters can brag about discovering tombs and helping mummies reunite with their deceased lovers?

Eugene snorted sarcastically and shook his head. He got himself in messes before, but this one was, by far, the most irreverent one.

While being so immersed in his own thoughts and so unaware of his surroundings, he failed to notice how Fredericks spotted him among the crowded streets of Thebes and followed him for about ten minutes, waiting for his chance to act. Before the redhead could even consider he was in danger or, at least, in a uncomfortable position, Fredericks grabbed his arm and pressed the cold and hard barrel of a gun against his back, covering the weapong with his body.

When Eugene jumped, he corrected his behavior by squeezing his flesh even harder and said: “Don't you even think about running.”

Eugene blinked and turned his head, looking up at his face. “What are you doing here?” Wasn't he supposed to be in Cairo?

“You might be clever enough to trick a stupid Belgian, but you are not clever enough to trick _me_.” he hissed, still looking forward and leading Eugene towards a more intimate place where he could threaten him in a more obvious way.

“Belgian...?” he couldn't help but ask. Then he remembered Merriell's _character_ and whispered: “ _Oh_...” He surely couldn't remember the name he made up and with the threat of violence and a fire gun pressing against his body, Eugene's mind was less effective than ever.

War was not that personal. War was about not shots from short distances, nor threats or the warmth of your enemy's body pressed right against your side. It was not the situation what had power over Eugene. He has been threatened before and certainly he has been threated by Fredericks, just a couple of days ago when he accused him of having a tablet. It was not the situation what made him feel scared, it was imagining the scent of gun powder, the heaviness of the iron of the gun. It was _anything_ that could cloud his mind and remind him of something he left behind but kept chasing him. That's why his movements became so robotic and his lips turned paler.

Eugene hated to think that Fredericks would misunderstand his fear and assume that it was him who he was scared of and not his own mind and its frail state.

With a harsh push, he was forced to walk in an alley. Fredericks was a stranger in that land, but seemed to have a skill to find all the hidden corners in that city so he could let his true self show.

“Give me the bloody tablet.” he tensed his jaw.

Eugene could now see the gun now since he was pointing it at him. The reporter didn't know if he was a veteran or not, but by the way he held the fire weapon, he didn't doubt that he knew how to use it, at least as an argument when everything else failed.

He swallowed and locked his knees in place, so he wouldn't sway or show anything that the relic hunter could find amusing or worth mocking. “I don't have it.” he blantanly lied. His shoulder has been hurting for a while now due to the weight of the, apparently, useless artifact that was inside of his bag.

“You've got the balls to lie to me?” It was like he insulted him. Like Eugene didn't think he had what it took to pull the trigger.

Certainly, Eugene wasn't thinking about the situation. He was not allowing himself to but as soon as Fredericks took a step forward, Eugene tensed his jaw and ended up raising his hands. He wasn't armed. Of course he wasn't. Just to think about holding a gun made him _sick_.

This time he stayed in silence.

“Give me the tablet.” Fredericks repeated, firm and with a fire in his eyes that could only be caused by greed.

He couldn't do that. The tablet was the key. The key to something they didn't know yet but that would help Ahkmenrah. What would it open? A chest? Another tomb? What was it? If Fredericks wanted it so bad, then he must know. He must have the answer.

Eugene shook his head. He couldn't give away the only clue they had. He couldn't let Ahkmenrah down. He promised he would help him. And Eugene could be plenty of things and have as many flaws as any other man, but he wasn't a liar.

Then, he felt the gun being pressed right against his forehead and he could hear bullets whistling and bodies dropping over mud and blood. Eugene closed his eyes shut and his hands trembled. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to throw up so bad. He could smell the bodies rotting and the stagnant water and he was back _there._ His temples became moist and he gasped.

 _Stay here, stay here_.

“Not so brave anymore.” Fredericks gloated. “You must be crazy if you think I will let you stand between me and what I want.” He kept pressing the gun against his head just to be vile. Just to keep fanning the fear and the nerves that were clearly taking over Eugene, as the shorter man sweated and struggled to keep his breathing and mind under control. Then, Fredericks hissed one last time: “The tablet. _Now_.”

Eugene exhaled shakily and this time he didn't have the courage to move his head. He stayed still and Fredericks lost his patience. He opened his bag, rougly and ripping the seam while doing such. Eugene was sure that the gun would leave a mark on his forehead. At that point it felt like he wanted to scrap his skull.

Losing the weight of the tablet that kept pulling his shoulder almost made him lose balance. Fredericks reduced the distance between them. The reporter still had his eyes closed, but he could smell his breath. For being such a heinous man, he smelled _good_. It was like he was trying to mask his true self with a few drops of cologne and mouthwash.

“Dare to write about me, Sledge.” the tone was intimate, as all threats are. “Dare and see what happens to you the next time I get you.”

Eugene tensed his jaw, defeated. When Fredericks stepped back and moved the hand that was holding the gun, he flinched, thinking that he would hit him with it. The Brit laughed, regarding him as the most pitiful and cowardly opponent he faced.

When he walked away from that alley, victorious and taking the tablet with him, Eugene wished that would have hit him. The blood dripping down his face would have been easier to stomach than the shame.

The fear of violence still left him _petrified_.

*** * ***

Eugene arrived to their hotel room shaken and nervous. His mood only got worse when he found out that Merriell wasn't there: without a warning on the door and Ahkmenrah's corpse right on the bed.

He even prayed to soothe his wrath, but the more it took him to come back, the more anger he felt. It wasn't until a couple of hours after he made it back that Merriell showed up. When he saw Eugene, who was sitting on the Cajun's bed, he frowned slightly. He closed the door slowly and scratched the back of his head.

The younger man was clearly pissed off about something. He decided to play it safe: “Hey?”

“Where have you been?” Eugene stood up, walking around Ahkmenrah's bed, to get closer to Merriell.

“I went out to buy a couple of things. You see, my Lulu will have me whiped if I go back home without presents, y'know? She's a really nasty girl whenev—”

Eugene couldn't even believe what he was hearing. He went out, leaving Ahkmenrah's body right there, _unsupervised_ , to buy his little wife a present? To keep her happy after he kissed him? Was he trying to make him understand that if they ever had _something,_ he'd be labeled as a lover and little else?

The redhead blushed with shame and anger. If he didn't have enough with his meeting with Fredericks, now he had to deal with this, too? Oh, God was truly testing him today and he felt like he was about to disappoint Him.

“You can't be serious right now.” he began, soft. “You can't be fucking serious!” But that quickly changed and raised his voice considerably. “We are in the middle of _something_! Something dangerous and... completely insane and you decide to go and—” He couldn't even finish the sentence, overwhelmed with the picture of a woman waiting under the threshold of Merriell's house. _He hated it_. He hated it with passion and envy was easily becoming my favourite sin, lately. Eugene covered his face with a hand and forced himself to take a deep breath. “When I think you can't disappoint me any further, you manage to surprise me.”

That didn't sit well with Merriell. It hurt quite a bit to hear Eugene say that.

“You don't hafta talk to me like that. You don't have the fuckin' right to talk to me like I am useless.”

“You are when you worry more about buying presents than helping me! You were supposed to come here and make things easier for me! And you promised to do so! It was the only reason I let you come with me.” And because he wouldn't give him the map, otherwise.

“It's hard helpin' you when you keep shuttin' me out all the goddamn time! What am I?! Your fuckin' dog that waits for you all day long?! That accepts your affection after you kick him around?” The redhead looked insulted. Yeah, he was sure he treated that dead dog of his better than he was treating him right now. “You ain't got the right! And you will start talkin' to me with some respect or...” _Or what?_

It was clear that Merriell didn't know how to finish his sentence, but thankfully, Eugene didn't let him: “I just bumped into Fredericks! After _you_ ” he pocked his chest. He ignored him when the older veteran argued that he convinced him to leave. “told me he went back to Cairo. And guess what he did?!”

“I ain't a mind reader!” With his shoulders pulled back, the Cajun was clearly defensive but retreating, not wanting to argue with him but tired of Eugene's sudden irritation after ignoring him.

“He got the tablet.” Eugene blurted out as fast as humanly possible.

“ _What_?” he frowned, taken aback for a second. “What do you mean, _he got the tablet_? You gave it to him?”

“Of course not!” he snapped. “He had a gun, alright? I couldn't do anything!” Oh, God. He wished he could have done something about it. His pride was easily cornered and destroyed as soon as the threat of violence and the view of a fire gun got involved in the picture. He even remembered how he collapsed and even cried once when his father asked him to go hunting with him.

“A gun?!” Merriell asked. Suddenly, it was like the argument wasn't important anymore. He left his bag over Ahkmenrah's bed —and body—, and cupped Eugene's face with overly caring hands: “Are you okay?”

“Oh, give me a break! Don't get all protective now!” he slapped his hands away in the same moment that those came in contact with his cheeks. Merriell tensed his jaw, seeing how they were back on the starting point with Eugene rejecting his touch with pure distaste. “You don't get to do that! In fact, drop that fucking attitude of yours, Merriell. It's _disgusting_!”

“ _Disgusting._ ” he repeated the word. Oh, Eugene knew how to hurt him. So intimate, so personal. Like a dagger between ribs after a tender embrace.

“Yes!” he stepped back, running a hand through his hair, still shaken after the terrible day that he had and the jealousy he was currently experiencing. “You act like you still have the _right_ to demand things from me. Guess what? You don't!” They weren't anything, anymore. They never were, to begin with. Merriell couldn't ask Eugene for fidelity or love. He lost those when he walked away. “ _Maybe_ , instead of buying _your Lulu_ a fucking present, why don't you try and be a better husband and _actually_ wear your wedding band?!”

The accusation found itself way out of his mouth. He _had_ to say it. He _needed_ to say it. Merriell was once loyal and caring. Why did he change so much? Was his marriage so miserable? It couldn't be. They had a little girl together, Eugene assumed naïve as he could be.

But at that, Merriell could only blink. Little did he know about the whole story that Eugene created in his mind to be able to connect a name and a picture. Still, he couldn't help but look puzzled when he asked: _“Husband?”_

“Yes!” he replied right away. He hated it when people made it seem like he was talking nonsense. “Yes! Husband! For God's sake, Snaf... How could you change so much?” Eugene was convinced that Merriell would have been faithful to him. He always looked after him and made him aware of the power he had over him. Like no one could ever compare to him. Then, that's why he acted like that? Such _vanity_. Eugene didn't like that girl. He didn't like that idea of _Mrs Shelton_ in the slightest, but she deserved some respect. “You are married and yet... You kiss me back? That's... _wrong_!” That last word made him sound like his mother and Eugene hated himself for it.

“You think I'm married?” the Cajun was doing a very poor job at keeping a straight face. “To my Lulu? Why on Earth would you think that?”

“Oh, save it!” Today was not the day. He was threatened with a gun and the tablet was gone. Probably forever. Eugene didn't _also_ feel like being mocked and lied to. “I saw the picture of your daughter on your wallet. Have some decency, you are a _family man_ , for God's sake.” Eugene shook his head and turned around.

At that point, while being convinced that he had a point there and that a fidelity should be expected from a spouse, he was letting out his frustration and Merriell happened to be in the same room as he was. Any other, way more innocent than the Cajun would have received a similar treatment.

“ _My_ daughter.” Merriell repeated. “What the fuck are you even talkin' about?”

“I don't want to hear it, Snafu.” the redhead sighed. “Denying you have a daughter to get whatever you want out of this might be a bit much. Even for you.”

“Even for me.” Merriell got angry at that. Very angry. Eugene was crossing the line with those accusations and painting him as someone that was both cruel and a cheater. He didn't have a family, he wasn't a father. But if he had been, he would have _bragged_ about his children, not try to hide them to get to fuck someone. He closed his eyes and swallowed the anger and all the words he wanted to scream at him. “Look at this.” he began as he roughly pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Look at this, _goddamnit_!”

He got a small stack of pictures. Eugene noticed, when he first saw the picture of the toddler, that Merriell kept plenty there. But he didn't have it in him to start going through them since that would have implied that he was prying. His mother raised him better than being noisy, but the fact that he became a reporter left clear that he didn't follow her guidance all too closely.

Merriell went through the pictures, with his jaw tight and finally finding the one that would reveal the truth.

“Who is that guy, Sledge?” the question was rather sharp as he put the picture right in his face. Eugene frowned and leaned back slightly to be able to actually _see_ it. “Look at him. Who the fuck is that guy?”

Eugene took the picture. What he said truly had an impact on the Cajun. He was _fuming._ He almost thought about apologizing before doing what he was told but decided against it.

There where three persons in that picture: a bride, a groom _and_ Merriell. They were right in front of a church, with the veteran leaning against the girl, smiling, as she had her arm linked around the arm of the groom. The only one that he had, in fact. Eugene frowned slightly and focused on the man; his tanned complexion, his beautiful and dark hair and the sweet smile on his lips.

_Who was he?_

It took him a few seconds for Eugene to remember.

“That's... Is that Romero?” he muttered, blinking. He couldn't quite recall his first name, but he was quite confident that he got it right. “From Love Company?” He remembered, before the _heebies jeebies fiasco_ , that he saw Merriell interact with the boy a couple of times. He mentioned once that he was from New Orleans, too. That they weren't really friends but that it was rather nice to have someone you could talk to about home. He was also the one who told him about Carson and his terrible fate.

“Yes, Eugene! Lulu's _husband_ and Ellie's _father._ Fuck!” he snatched the pictured from his hand, clearly in a terrible mood because Eugene had the guts to imply so many terrible things about him. He could be many things, but cheating on his _wife_? On the _mother_ of his _daughter_? That was how he saw him? “She's my cousin, you _brat_.” He only said that word to keep himself from using something worse.

“You said your cousin was Roe!” How was he supposed to know when Merriell kept his family as a secret? He never shared anything with him.

“I have two cousins!” So to speak. None of them were blood related, but Mamaw would toss and turn in her grave if he ever implied that Constance and her weren't family. Something bind them together. Something way stronger than blood. “Or people are only allowed to have one? Fuckin' Hell.” he grumbled, putting the picture back on its place. Not even Ellie's funny smirk could make him smile, at the moment. “It fuckin' shows you didn't go to school to become a reporter. I hope you are a little better when it comes to your job.”

“No need to be rude.” Eugene muttered, crossing his arms.

“You didn't need to be rude either and you called me a cheater and a terrible father, so you can fuckin' take that just fine!”

“Well! I was wrong, you are neither!”

“I swear to God you'd do anythin' to avoid apologizin' to me. Is it funny? Is it entertaining? To treat me like trash? Or it's just payback?” He needed to know at that point. Did he have a chance or Eugene only wanted to punish him?

“It's not payback. Do you honestly think I am that resentful and vindictive?” Eugene huffed.

“No, I think you are too fucking proud to admit you've been a huge asshole! I might deserve it, but I've been tryin' to do things properly!”

“Oh, really? After insulting Ahk? After telling him he was murdered? Or when you implied they killed his lover?”

“That has nothin' to do with you! You've been... You are angry at me. I get it! I deserve it! But I'm tryin', over here! And surely it doesn't help that you kiss me and then ignore me! Like I am fuckin' nothin'!”

“I thought you were married!”

“You kissed me, anyway! You go around kissin' _married_ men? It says a lot about your character, too!”

Eugene became red, from the tip of his ears down to his collarbones under his shirt. Merriell sighed and turned around, cursing under his breath. They won't get anything out of this. They were always arguing and misunderstanding each other. Could they even fix this, anymore?

“Let's just... Find a way to get that tablet back and... Be done with this.” Merriell mumbled.

Eugene pressed his lips together and cleaned his hands over the fabric of his trousers around his hips. “I'm... _sorry._ ” he forced the word out of his mouth. If his father told him that pride wouldn't get him anywhere and even Merriell finally told him that it was a flaw of his, maybe it was getting in the way between him and whatever that made him happy. He was holding onto that because he thought he didn't have anything else. “It's not like I pictured you as... a terrible husband, I was just confused...”

“Yeah, _big time_.” Merriell didn't look like he wanted to talk about it any further.

After a moment of doubt, Eugene took a step forward and touched Merriell's arm. The Cajun looked at him, tired both of the situation and his attitude. Eugene didn't have it in him to say everything that he had been thinking about.

The knock on Eugene's door made both of them turn. Merriell frowned as Eugene walked from his room to his and followed him, after grabbing his gun. Who said that Fredericks wouldn't be back? As soon as he was called _Monsieur Sledge_ , he understood it was just one of the workers of the hotel.

The older man relaxed and hid the gun behind his back.

“Professor El-Badawi called the reception. She wants to speak with you.” he briefly informed him.

Eugene blinked and nodded. Maybe she had some more questions about Ahkmenrah's tomb. Right now it was not the moment for curiosity but it was only polite to offer the woman a couple of minutes when she helped them so much.

“I'll be right back and then we'll...” the redhead began and Merriell nodded. “Okay.” he whispered and followed the bellhop to the reception. When he got the phone, he said: “Hello? Yes, it's me.”

“I just bumped into Robert Fredericks.” El-Badawi didn't waste any time. “The idiot was gloating about the tablet you told me about.” Eugene hoped and prayed that she didn't realize that he lied to her. If she did, she didn't mention it: “He also said that he was going to travel to Saqqara tonight. I know you are after him and that you want to stop him. That's why I am telling you, because I am afraid he will loot another tomb.” After all, Saqqara was a necropolis. What else could he want to do, there?

“Really?” Eugene made a move to the girl behind the counter so she would lend him a pen and a piece of paper. “Did he mention, by any chance, which train would he take?” Saqqara was the answer. Maybe they could find the way to steal the tablet... Well! Merriell stole the map away from him. They could attempt to do something similar.

“The one that leaves at 10:30.” she replied.

“Got it.”

Maybe not everything was lost just yet. They _had_ to keep trying.

*** * ***

Ahkmenrah looked visibly disappointed at the fact that they lost their tablet. He sighed and pressed his lips, but other than that, he didn't say anything. Nor he threw a tantrum or got overly dramatic. He only agreed when Eugene explained him the plan after he bought their train tickets. He was _still_ behaving like a grown up when Eugene closed the door of their cabin and Merriell left their luggage on the bottom bunk. The Cajun put a hand on his shoulder and made him sit down there. Ahkmenrah rested his forearm over the suitcases and looked up at them two, curiously.

Eugene needed a second to both be aware and ignore the fact that he was back on a train with Merriell. This... Was nothing. An unfortunate coincidence. Not something he should be focusing on. They had way more important matters at hand, but God help him if it didn't put him on edge. Like Merriell wasn't about to leave at any minute now.

When Ahkmenrah raised his eyebrows, he forced himself to finally speak: “We are going to hide by now... Until the train leaves the station.” To make sure that Fredericks wouldn't spot them and get off the train or worse, get them kicked out. Thankfully, it wouldn't take much since they waited until the last moment to avoid being seen other among the other passengers. “Then you find him.” he looked briefly at Merriell who frowned a bit, confused. “Make him drink as much as possible.”

“I thought you told me not to do that since he had a drinkin' problem.” he replied.

“We don't have time to do what's morally right anymore.” Playing by the rules was proving to be useless in this kind of situation. To win someone like the relic hunter, you had to use his same dirty and questionable schemes. “You steal the tablet and hope he doesn't wake up until tomorrow morning and then...” he rubbed his forehead. And then what?

“But if he is the only one who knows how the tablet works... Wouldn't it make sense to keep him sober? To ask him?” Ahkmenrah innocently asked.

“Why would he do that?” Merriell snorted.

“Fredericks is an idiot and he loves to brag,” enough to give enemies clues just to be able to show off, like he did with the map and how he revealed his plans while El-Badawi was around. “but he won't just tell me.” After a long sigh, Eugene insisted: “Our plan, _by now_ , is recovering the tablet.”

“Got it.” Ahkmenrah nodded, clearly trusting him. That had to be the main reason why he didn't scream or blame him when he found out that their key was lost. He was following Merriell's advice: believe the unthinkable can and will happen. It will, eventually, take him back to Leonellus' arms.

“Exactly. We recover the tablet and then I sell it.” Merriell choose the worst moment to tease. Ahkmenrah pouted and huffed, clearly displeased with that.

Eugene didn't take it any better.

“Can you cut it out?” he put his hands on his hips, turning to face him. “Seriously, that joke is getting boring, at this point. If you don't want to be part of this, then why do you even stick around?” He couldn't help himself. Oh, he was in such a terrible mood today and when he thought it couldn't get worse, he was back on a train with Merriell. He was being tested today, for sure. What's next? Seriously. What could possibly happen next? “Just so you can actually sell it after all of this is done?”

“Like you give a fuck about what's gonna happen to me after this is over.” Merriell couldn't help himself. He has been trying to please him. Maybe he failed miserably, but he tried and Eugene kept stomping on him _no matter what_.

Eugene didn't want to question himself that. He didn't want to know. Merriell wasn't married, but did that change anything? _No_. He still left him and he still thought that remain proud and distant was his only choice. “We'll go on different ways. And that will be all.”

“That will be all...” Merriell nodded, with a mocking voice. “Because this was your little sick game from the very beginning, wasn't it? How does it feel, Sledge? To know you have the power to drive a man insane?”

“You ask me that when you were the one who left me?!” he argued.

“Oh, my fuckin' God. _Again._ ” He was starting to get tired of being beaten over the same mistake. He knew he did the wrong thing. He knew he broke Eugene's heart. He apologized and he meant it. Body and soul. What else could he do?

“Again?” Eugene blinked. “ _Again_?!”

Ahkmenrah was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable. He never argued with Leonellus like that, but he didn't think that was something either of them would want to hear at that moment. Still, he couldn't help himself when he muttered: “He looks like wants to rip you apart...” Because Eugene did look like he would jump on Merriell at any moment. He would have been terrified of seeing that look on Leonellus face.

Surprisingly, it was not Merriell who gave him a rather harsh reply: “We are talking!” And with that, Eugene left very clear that those ten years that set them apart made him see Ahkmenrah like a child who was trying to get involved in an adults' argument.

The mummy didn't like that in the slightest. Actually, the only discussion he ever had with Leonellus was for that same reason and it was never as heated as the one they were having.

“I don't know what the fuck you want me to do, anymore.” Merriell continued, obtaining Eugene's attention again. “I apologized. I told you it was my fuckin' fault because I got scared. I lost you. Don't you think that's enough of a punishment? No, you need to torture me over that shit! What do you want me to do? Honestly! What the fuck do you want me to do?”

“I don't want you to do anything!” Eugene groaned.

Ahkmenrah noticed that the train started to move and was slowly leaving the station. The argument was clearly about get worse and those two had plenty of things left to say. He didn't feel like witnessing it and his royal background told him that he didn't have to do something if he didn't want to, so he stood up, silent as he could be, and exited the cabin. Neither of them noticed, far too focused on each other.

“You don't want me to do anythin'? Butllshit! Just spit it out!” But Eugene stayed silent, stubborn and wanting to show he was over it. He wasn't. In the same way that Merriell was not over it, either. None of them would ever be over what Merriell did. They could only forget about it or move on. “Do you want me to beg for your forgiveness?”

“ _What_?” Eugene blinked. “No, of course not.”

“I think you do.” To see him miserable and disgraced. _He was_. He has been for a long time. Ever since he left him. Before Eugene could deny it a second time, he kept questioning him: “Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for you to forgive me? You want me to humilate myself?!” His voice got a bit out of control because Merriell knew well how that situation would end if Eugene said yes. And since he wasn't embarrassed to let him know how much power he had over him, he told him so: “I'll fuckin' do it if that's what you want and if that allows yourself to forgive me!”

Eugene could lend him some of his pride, at the moment. He even bounced when Merriell reacted to his silence by crouching.

“No!” he gasped and grabbed his arms, pulling him up. He didn't want Merriell's knees to touch the ground. “Get up, what the Hell are you even doing?!”

“What you want me to do!” He was tired of this situation. He wanted Eugene to either open the door or close it forever. But that game of giving him a smidge of hope and then shut him out completely was starting to get to him.

“No! I don't want you to do that! Stand up!” he pulled harder until Merriell got on his feet. The Cajun grabbed his arms, tightly pressing his fingers around his biceps. “I don't want you to kneel, I don't want you to beg. That's not the kind of person I am!” That was not the kind of person he wanted to be. He wanted be fair and good. Not... proud and resentful, as he felt ever since he met Merriell in Cairo.

“What do you want from me, Eugene?” Merriell asked once more, this time sounding tired and absolutely defeated. “Anythin' you want me to do, I'll do it.” The tenderness and love he still had for him showed on how he stroked his arms with his thumbs.

“What I want...” he breathed. What did he really want? It was about damn time he said it. Both to Merriell and himself. “is for you to understand that I loved you,” Sincerely, ardently. With his heart, his mind and his soul. “and that you didn't think that was en—”

“It was me.” Merriell interrupted him. “It was me who wasn't enough.”

He kept saying that. Eugene could tell that Merriell had an insecurity problem. Who would have thought when he was the one who spoke the most, made fun of others and always looked confident and brave enough to do anything? Merriell was just as fragile and human as he was. And behind that bravado was hiding an insecure child desperate for honest love.

“You were always enough.” he whispered, shaking his head. “You were who I loved. You are the one I can't forget.” _You are the one I want to forgive_. “You were the one I loved with all my heart, Snaf.” Merriell pressed his forehead against his, sighing and wanting to obtain some tenderness. A little bit of care. “I don't need you to beg. I don't want you to get on your knees to ask for my forgiveness. You know why I act like this. You must know...” he mumbled. “My mind is telling me one thing and my heart another. I no longer know what to do.” The only thing he knew was that the possibility of this adventure coming to an end and _actually_ parting ways made him feel both scared and angry.

“I'll stick around until you do.” the older veteran promised. “I'm sorry and I want you to give me a second chance.” Eugene sighed and he licked his lips. “If you are willing to do so, then... I will never let you down.”

Against better judgment, Eugene nodded slowly. Merriell thanked him, low and intimate, and he had to turn his head to make sure he wouldn't kiss him again. He was suffering because of his actions, he couldn't keep toying with him until he knew what he wanted to do. But that movement allowed him to realise that Ahkmenrah was no longer in the cabin with them.

“Where's Ahk?” Eugene asked, turning his head to the other side and seeing how he didn't even bother to close the door properly.

“That fuckin' brat...” Merriell groaned and reluctantly released Eugene.

“Let's find him before he gets into trouble.”

“It's like travellin' with a toddler.” he shook his head before he opened the door. “You go that way, I go this way.” After Eugene nodded, Merriell couldn't help but reach out for his wrist and squeeze it tenderly.

Eugene bit his lower lip. Six years after that stupid mistake and he still had the very same impact on him. That had to be love. What else could persist through the years without any kind of nourishment?

*** * ***

Ahkmenrah explored the train while the other two argued. That they were still in love with each other was clear as day to him —even if it's been a while since he saw the Sun for the last time!—, so why waste time arguing? He didn't get to spend much of it with Leonellus, but he was proud of thinking that he made the most of it while he was alive. The Prince didn't consider that it was a good idea to act like those two did. Funny how they implied _he_ was the child!

Either way, that discussion was quickly forgotten as he kept walking down the sleeping car. He saw different kinds of people but he smiled at them all. Some of them smiled back, others ignored him. He missed being admired and loved by his people. It always made him feel good when they looked up at him with devotion and respect. Maybe he would have some of that back, someday. As soon as they solved this strange situation.

What finally captured Ahkmenrah's attention, way more than how could this invention worked and how fast they moved, was the subtle sound of music. He followed it and reached the longue car. There he found plenty of people, way friendlier than the ones from the previous car. Perhaps they weren't rude, only tired and needing some rest. Ahkmenrah sat down and observed the four musicians, closely listening to them. It changed so much! And from all the things that could surprise him, that was the one that he found the most interesting. He liked it! Made his body want to move around and... _Ah_ , to have Leonellus there to hear it too! He would tell him. As soon as they reunited, he will let him know about everything he saw and heard.

When he was really enjoying himself at last, after all of this started, a hand on his shoulder spoiled his fun. Pharaoh blinked and turned, just to find a man he didn't recognize.

“Mercier?” Fredericks asked, convinced that it was the Belgian egyptologist even if he looked quite younger. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

“Huh?” he tilted his head to the side.

“Oh...” The Brit parted his lips. “I...” he cleared his throat and smiled, politely. “I confused you with someone else. I apologize.” he began.

Ahkmenrah didn't pay any more attention and when the musicians finished the piece, he started clapping excitedly, hoping to the Gods that they would play another.

Fredericks stepped back while frowning, clearly insulted after being dismissed in such a rude way. He grumbled and walked towards the dinning car. He had plenty to celebrate, tonight. Tomorrow morning he might make the greatest discovery known to man. He already pictured himself and his son Cecil living in a mansion. After all, he promised the boy this would be his last adventure. He had to make it worth it.


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fredericks was drunk. Not as drunk as he was when he stole the map from him, but enough for him to sway from side to side as he headed towards his cabin. Merriell noticed that he was actually not very far from Eugene's. He licked his lips and tilted his head, to see if he could see something before Fredericks pushed him inside. He was desperate to brag and show him the tablet.  
> Good, the man's arrogance worked in Merriell's favor.  
> Fredericks closed the door and he looked at him as he opened the suitcase.  
> “I'm going to share with you... what might be the greatest discovery you could ever think of.”  
> “Oh, really?” Merriell replied, waiting. This was the only chance they had to recover the tablet. He would let him talk and brag as much as he wanted. “And what is it?”  
> “A gate to the Underworld.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter more and it's over! I hope you will enjoy this even if it's a little shorter than the others, but... It was a very messy night on that train, heck!

Merriell turned around, defeated.

The kid wasn't there. He made it to the very beginning of the train and he was nowhere to be found. The Cajun sighed and rubbed his forehead. They will have to tie him to a chair to make sure he won't run away. He saw plenty of parents do that with their most mischievous children back in the bayou. Mamaw had a better method, way less physical too. She only had to tell him that if he left without permission, he might need it to get back inside of their little shack. Merriell liked to think he was well-behaved as a child, but the fact that she always called him _Petit Diable_ perhaps hinted the complete opposite.

Jesus _fucking_ Christ, the things he would do to have her back. To be able to talk to her and let him know what he had to do to get Eugene back. She was so wise and straightforward that there was no way to miss the meaning behind her words.

He scratched the back of his head and went back over his tracks, hoping that Eugene had better luck than he did.

When he opened the door of the dinning car, to go back to their cabin, it only took a second to spot Fredericks, all by himself, more focused on drinking than eating. Just to think that the man held Eugene at gunpoint, forcing him to relive all the brutal memories of war and put him in the worst position possible, made him _angry_. Made him _violent_.

Instead of reaching for the gun that he was hiding under his shirt, he grabbed the spectacles he stole in Cairo and put them on. Each time Mercier met Fredericks, the Belgian had messier hair and dressed way less formally than he did the first time he met him. Merriell didn't even bother himself to try to brush his hair to look more elegant.

“Fredericks?” he called, pretending to be surprised of seeing him there there. Who the fuck told him to stay in Thebes?

The Brit blinked and turned around. He smiled widely when he saw him, not because he was happy to see him but because he wanted to share his victory with someone.

“Mercier!” he stood up and shook his hand effusively. “Such a coincidence. You see, this must be fate playing tricks. I just bumped into a young man that looked just like you.” he explained, remembering Ahkmenrah's confused look and how quickly he ignored him. “You don't happen to be travelling with family, do you?”

“Always alone.” Merriell denied, smiling tightly. That stupid brat, he should have stayed in the cabin. “Did we look so alike?”

“I would say that he looked quite younger.”

There we go again, _quite fucking younger_. Merriell fought the temptation to touch his face, searching for wrinkles or whatever that it was that made him look _much_ older than the kid.

He continued to smile and Fredericks spoke again: “Please, join me.” he gestured towards the seat in front of him, across the small table with plenty of food and drinks. “I wouldn't want to have dinner all by myself. Not tonight!”

“Are you celebrating?” Merriell obeyed and noticed how a waiter approached their table and set down a plate and silverware for him to be able to enjoy the meal, as well. He tried not to reach out for the knife after thinking that Fredericks not only threatened Eugene with a gun, but that the bastard was happy enough to reward himself with a feast.

“I am, my friend.” he claimed before he put a cigarette between his lips. “I am on the verge of something great. A step away from a marvellous discovery.” He took a long drag and then grinned, as the smoke found its way out of his mouth between his teeth. “And to think you almost sent me in the wrong direction...” The Belgian didn't possess his wit. Men like Eugene Sledge could trick him, but Fredericks considered himself entirely different from Mercier and, of course, much better in every way possible.

“That's what he told me.” Merriell stole one of his smokes, briefly checking his cigarette cage. Oh, that was rather nice. Expensive, too. “You see, Sledge can be very convincing whenever he wants to be.”

“I've heard about him. I am sure he is good with persuasion.” And that could depict Eugene as someone who was willing to bribe or get his hands dirty for information. But the meaning changed completely when Fredericks added: “With _men_ , at least.”

He was about to light the cigarette he but began to play with it, squaring his jaw. Merriell breathed deeply and tried not to make a scene. What was that kind of implication? Eugene was an honest and he would never attempt to seduce _anyone_ for any kind of reward. He was just not that kind of person. It bothered him beyond words that Fredericks would assume that he was.

The Brit noticed that he fell silent and he chuckled, leaning forward over the table: “Oh, no, no. I wasn't trying to accuse you of anything. Not in the slightest!” The got rid of the excess of ash. “And if you did... I am not the one to judge when a man becomes curious about what he is not often allowed to have.” Fredericks resumed smoking, patting Merriell's arm, with a smug smirk. “Let's drink.”

_Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him!_

“Let's.” Merriell smiled back, tightly.

*** * ***

Eugene, who went in the opposite direction, only needed about fifteen minutes to find Ahkmenrah.

The young boy was still mesmerized by the musicians and getting plenty of attention. The longue car was supposed to be an entertaining place for the passengers, but not many of them considered it was the best place to dance —there's always a potential chance of falling. Pharaoh did as Pharaoh pleased and if he wanted to dance in the middle of the longue car, then... That was exactly what Eugene found him doing.

The redhead shook his head. It was literally travelling with a toddler. Merriell was right on that one. What if he also caught Fredericks' attention? Eugene briefly looked around, making sure that the coast was clear before he strode towards Ahkmenrah.

“Hey!” he grabbed his arm.

The Prince bounced but smiled as soon as he saw him. “Hello!” he beamed. “Do you want to dance with me? I'm having fun!” At last, after so many headaches!

“This is not the time for dancing.” Eugene didn't even dance in private, there was no way he could convince him to join his little and improvised party. “Let's go back to the cabin before Fredericks sees us. Come on.”

“But it's boring in there!” Ahkmenrah whined.

“Don't you even think about making a scene, right now.” the older man said as he put a hand over Ahkmenrah's back, making him walk forward. “You can't just leave like that, without saying anything!” he began to scold him and the mummy sighed, long and tired.

“You two were arguing... As you always do!” he replied as Eugene hushed him, when they stepped back on the sleeping car. Ahkmenrah lowered his voice a bit, but his argument was still the very same. “I don't understand why you keep doing that. It's a waste of time!”

“We discuss our problems. It's what people do.”

“I didn't argue with Leonellus that much.” he confessed. “Sometimes he didn't agree with me,” and was very honest about it. “but we weren't always... bickering!”

“Bickering!” Eugene repeated, slightly insulted. “It's not _bickering._ We have a very complicated relationship, alright? You wouldn't understand!” he opened the door of their cabin and made him walk inside, closing the door after him. Ahkmenrah looked like a grounded teenager to him, by the way he slouched and pouted. “There's... plenty we still need to talk about and sometimes we can't keep our head straight. That's only normal.”

“No, it's not that.” he shook his head. “You were _bickering_ and I don't think that either you have a point, anymore. You are just frustrated and Merriell is angry. You bicker, not because you have anything left to say, but because you keep avoiding the silence. Sometimes you just have to listen to what you want instead of talking all the time!” And that came from someone who was far from calm or collected. He learned plenty of Leonellus' patience, though. “That's what I would do. And I know I am right.”

Eugene, who was just reduced to a frustrated idiot, somehow agreed with Ahkmenrah but, _again_ , his pride made him deflect the discussion. “...You are a very insolent young man.” he mumbled, crossing his arms.

“I'm Pharaoh.” Ahkmenrah shrugged, convinced that he had a point and that Eugene would, eventually, have to agree with him, too.

Eugene hushed him before he sat down by his side, now waiting for Merriell to come back.

And just like that, a couple of hours went by.

It was awfully complicated to keep Ahkmenrah entertained for the time being, but at least he didn't demand food or going to the bathroom. The boy was alive, but he didn't seem to have physical urgues, which was quite relieving to Eugene. So it was travelling like a toddler but only _slightly_ easier. Eugene kept his eyes focused on the door of the cabin when he felt the Prince collapsing by his side, tired of looking through the window.

“I'm bored.” he stated.

Eugene lost count how many times he said so. “Yes...” he muttered, dismissively. As soon as he heard Ahkmenrah drumming his fingers over the suitcase, he grabbed his hand squeezed his fingers kind yet firm. _Enough of that_.

The Prince was absolutely miserable! Just to think he could keep listening to that wonderful music...! Eugene was barely blinking anymore and Ahkmenrah almost felt like the reporter was being dishonest. Why hide the obvious? He decided to start a conversation, similar to the one they had previously: “You are worried about him.”

“He might have gotten into trouble.” Eugene answered.

“We would know. He's very loud.” the mummy commented like he was quiet and well-behaved. Eugene smiled briefly and released his hand. “You love him so much.” He had to talk about something, he would go insane if not. He thought that it was a good idea to talk about something Eugene was clearly thinking about.

The redhead closed his eyes for a second. Did he have the strength to lie, anymore? It feels like this adventure was created to bring demons from the past. Insecurities and a pain that he tried to bury for so long. They surfaced and now he had to face them. Merriell said that he wanted a second chance, but was he willing to give it to him? Eugene knew that there was something deep inside of him that was desperate forgive him. That he didn't want their separation to be on him, this time. On the other hand, if he allowed them to start again, could he promise that he would never bring it up again? You can use something you decided to forgive to hurt someone whenever you wanted to. It was _cruel_.

“...Let's not start again, please.” Eugene muttered, bowing his head forward and rubbing his forehead.

Ahkmenrah looked at him carefully before he wrapped an arm around him, caring and affectionate. “Ignoring something won't make it go away.” he advised him. “Seeing the two of you like this... Makes me so sad.” he rested his cheek over Eugene's shoulder, as the older man looked at him, confused. “You two still have each other. How would it be if he was no longer here? If he was no longer alive? Wouldn't that be worse?”

It would destroy him. To merely think about Merriell walking away from his life made him want to cry. He couldn't even picture the idea of getting a call, someday, and being told that Merriell died without them having a proper chance to share their lives in times of _peace_.

Eugene nodded slightly.

“Leonellus and I might never be together again...” he whispered, looking down, keeping himself from thinking about that. No, he had to stay hopeful. They would find a way. “But you two have a chance.” he blinked and focused on Eugene once more. “How likely it was for you two to find each other here?” Ahkmenrah was not very sure where they were from, still. But he didn't care much, if he was honest. He never distrusted Leonellus and he was a _Roman_. “After...”

“Six years.”

“ _Six years_!” he gasped. He spent way more without Leonellus but time became meaningless when you were stuck inside of a sarcophagus for so many nights. “And now you are here, together. And you have a chance!” he beamed, so innocent and so happy for him that Eugene had to smile back. “Why won't you take it?”

His first instinct was to say that Merriell hurt him, but he refrained from it. Maybe it was no longer on the Cajun but on how Eugene handled the pain. He protected himself with a very heavy armor that was started to weigh him down. He hasn't had any meaningful relationship with any man since Merriell left, he didn't allow others to know him properly. He rejected the idea of falling in love because he thought that it was just asking for the same fiasco to happen yet once again. Eugene called that wisdom, experience. In fact, the only he was attempting to do that keep Merriell's memory warm and sabotage any chance he ever had to properly move on. He decided to be sincere instead of deflecting his own fault: “I'm too proud and too scared.”

“He wasn't good to you?” Merriell proved himself to be quite cruel when he insulted Leonellus, but then again, he also comforted him when he cried about his deceased lover. Ahkmenrah thought that he was perhaps a bit of an idiot, but that deep down, he had a noble heart. He simply was scared of letting others take advantage of it.

“He was.” Eugene nodded. “He was... great.” he snorted with a small smile. “A little bit annoying, but always caring and sweet. He worried about me. About my relationship with my family. He wanted me to study.” It was even funny how passionate he always was about the idea of Eugene to college and yet... He refused to when he had the chance. “But then he left and I...” _didn't know what to do anymore_.

“Did he apologize?” Ahkmenrah asked, absently playing with the collar of Eugene's shirt, distracting himself a bit.

Eugene looked towards the door once again and huffed. Then he nodded and added: “He just did.”

“Is that enough for you?”

The veteran closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He was not going to cry. He was tired of crying and yet taking the worst decision for himself. “I want it to be.” he confessed with his voice muzzled against the palm of his hands. He wanted them to live in the very same house. He wanted them to have lunch and dinner together. He wanted to support Merriell with his decisions. He wanted to see him grow and prosper as a man. He wanted them to have a life together. He wanted to love him and for him to love him in return as they used to. But now even happier, with the certainty that war was something left in the past. “God, I missed him so much.”

He had to fight before, but it was way harder when he had to fight _himself_.

The Prince now wrapped both of his arms around him and embraced him tenderly. Eugene grabbed his forearm, squeezing it gentle and grateful. God, he missed that. Being able to talk to someone about how he felt. After he confessed to his father that he fell in love during the war, he never spoke about Merriell to anyone. Now, after doing so again... It felt good. It helped him to see things _differently_.

“He might be a very infuriating man,” Ahkmenrah was somehow fond of Merriell. In the end, he was kind of nice to him. But sometimes he was still very annoying! “and I might not be old enough to understand how _complicated_ your relationship truly is...” the mummy rolled his eyes, amusing Eugene. “but he loves you. I can see it. He loves you as much as you love him. Don't waste time. Don't delay it when you can get what you want in the same moment you let him know that you are willing to start again.”

Eugene licked his lips and looked at Ahkmenrah.

The Prince was right. He only had to get the courage that he needed to walk past his pride, convince himself that his fear was unreasonable and that would take him to happiness.

 _Simple as that_.

Eugene didn't get to thank Ahkmenrah. As soon as he parted his lips, a loud gunshot and people screaming suffocated his voice.

Merriell was in trouble. They could hear it loud and clear.

*** * ***

Fredericks was drunk. Not as drunk as he was when he stole the map from him, but enough for him to sway from side to side as he headed towards his cabin. Merriell noticed that he was actually not very far from Eugene's. He licked his lips and tilted his head, to see if he could see something before Fredericks pushed him inside. He was desperate to brag and show him the tablet.

 _Good_ , the man's arrogance worked in Merriell's favor.

Fredericks closed the door and he looked at him as he opened the suitcase.

“I'm going to share with you... what might be the greatest discovery you could _ever_ think of.”

“Oh, really?” Merriell replied, waiting. This was the only chance they had to recover the tablet. He would let him talk and brag as much as he wanted. “And what is it?”

“A gate to the Underworld.” Fredericks smirked, needing to sit down over the bed to able to search inside of his suitcase properly.

“A what?” the Cajun frowned.

“I couldn't believe it either, at first.” he kept gloating, like the discovery has been made already and he had the credit for it. “You'll never even imagine the things I had to do to get that scroll.” he looked smug, pleased with himself and touched his chest. Hardly regretting whatever that that he to do. _Black market_ , was the very first thing that came to Merriell's head. _Well, of course_. He was stealing from a country that was at the brink of a civil war. It couldn't be all that legal, to begin with. “But every gate needs a key. And I have mine.” he hummed as he finally pulled out the tablet.

And as he did, Merriell pulled out his gun, pointing it at him. At his head, as he did with Eugene.

“No. Not really yours. Give me that fuckin' tablet, Fredericks.” Merriell finally allowed himself to speak English in his presence.

The man, between the gun and the sudden change in the language, could only manage to ask: “Huh?”

“Give me the tablet.” he hissed, taking a step forward, looking down at him.

“Mercier, I don't kn—”

“My name is not Louis Mercier, you dumb fuck. My name is Merriell Shelton, from Louisiana, idiot.” he was spitting the insults, hoping those would be enough to balance the anger he felt about Fredericks intimidating Eugene so intimately. Just like he was doing with him, but with the horror of war happening behind his eyelids. “I work with Eugene Sledge. We've been _friends_ for a long time.” Were they ever friends? He was not going to explain himself to Fredericks. Even less after that comment about Eugene's reputation. “And I'm takin' the fuckin' tablet back where it belongs.” He snatched the tablet roughly, taking advantage of Fredericks stunned state. “You threaten him again and you'll regret you fuckin' asshole, you heard me?” he nudged his forehead harshly with the barrel of the gun. The Brit raised his hands instantly. “ _Fuck you_.”

That must have been one of the most illogical things he ever did. But he also joined the Marines during a war, after all. He tensed his jaw and stepped back, towards the door, as Fredericks kept looking at him, blinking. Like that was the first time anyone ever lied to him. After that, Merriell ran down the corridor, so none of the other passengers would see him and so Fredericks wouldn't get to see in which cabin they were staying at. And he didn't really have a plan after this, so running sounded like the best thing he could do in that situation.

When Merriell sneaked out of the cabin, Fredericks was still processing the whole situation. He was lied to. Tricked in the most heinous way possible. Now everything made sense. When he met Mercier for the first time, he lost one of his maps. During the second time, he almost travelled to Cairo, away from Sledge and the tablet. And to think that same morning he made fun of the Belgian because he thought that the reporter tricked him! It was him who fell right into the trap.

Robert Fredericks was not only an arrogant man, he was awfully vindictive too and Merriell just became his enemy. It was a very bad timing that he did so when the Brit was both drunk and had a gun hiding underneath all of his clothes in his suitcase.

He grabbed it and went after Merriell, opening fire, careless that there were other passengers in the corridor who started screaming and running after the liar. “Stop that man!” he slurred as Merriell looked over his shoulder, widening his eyes when a bullet passed by, hitting one of the lamps of the corridor. “He's a thief!”

“Fuck!” he cursed and started to run faster, seeing Eugene and Ahkmenrah opening the door of the cabin to see what the Hell was going on. He made it past a terrified couple, pressing his body against the wall and almost tripping in the process.

“See? I told you that if he got into trouble, we would hear it!” Ahkmenrah chuckled, absolutely ignoring the whole ruckus around him. Eugene wanted to believe that it was because he didn't understand how dangerous a gun could be. “Hey, Merriell!” he waved at the Cajun who was running towards them.

Fredericks fired two shoots more. Eugene gasped and grabbed Ahkmenrah's shirt, getting him closer to his body, as one of the bullets impacted right on the door of their cabin. Right where the Prince had been standing. The second bullet got the couple Merriell managed to dodge, wounding the woman on the shoulder, who wailed of pain.

“Eugene, grab the kid and run!” he screamed, gesturing at them and pointing at the end of the car.

Ahkmenrah poked the bullet stuck on the wood and winced a bit, since it was warm, still. “What is this?” he couldn't help but ask. “Hey, Eugene. Check thi— _Oh_!” he gasped as Eugene grabbed his wrist and pulled roughly when he started to run in front of Merriell.

And so they ran: fast as possible and with Merriell cursing right behind him. It truly reminded him of war. Eugene pushed the door of the longue car open and the muscians stopped playing. The people there screamed when they heard yet another gunshot.

“Move!” Eugene screamed, pushing people aside. They didn't need more people getting hurt over this. “Run towards the end of the train!” he told Ahkmenrah, not stopping at any second and looking over his shoulder to make sure Merriell was _fine_.

“What the fuck are we goin' to do?!” Merriell roared over the people who went from one side to the other, screaming and gasping, hoping to find a spot that would save them from being hurt.

“We'll jump!” Eugene said, making it past the musicians. Ahkmenrah felt so sorry for them. They were great entertainers!

“What? No!” They couldn't jump from a moving train. Even less with a kid that would turn into a fucking mummy as soon as they Sun would rise. It would take them _hours_ to get to the closest town.

“We don't have any other other choice!”

Fredericks shoot again when Ahkmenrah opened the door of the following car. Merriell slammed it shut, taking a second to breathe.

“Fuck!” he gasped and looked around; there they stored most of the suitcases of all the passengers. Eugene was still running and he rushed after him. “We can't jump, Eugene!” he grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“We have to!” he tried to keep running. Merriell pulled his arm and kept him in place. “He's going to kill us!”

“He knows what this tablet is for!” he said as fast as possible, seeing how Ahkmenrah stopped, looking confused. He pushed the tablet against the boy's chest. “You keep this. No matter what, don't let it go!” he told him and the Prince nodded. Then he turned to look at Eugene. “He spoke about a gate, Eugene. And this is the key. We need to find where is that door.” In Saqqara, for sure. But where?

Eugene stayed in silence for a couple of seconds, hearing Fredericks coming closer. “Are you sure?” Merriell nodded. “...Fine.” he nodded and finally bothered himself to also look around. “We'll hide and as soon as he gets here... We tackle him and hope for the best.” he saw the gun kept on the waistband of Merriell's trousers and nodded at himself. “We can do it.” he pushed Merriell and Ahkmenrah towards the suitcases, to find a place to hide. “And you stay hidden until it'safe.” he whispered to youngest.

Eugene crouched with Merriell by his side. For a moment, he could smell the moss and blood of those hills in Okinawa. No, this was nothing like that. He had to stay in the moment. Merriell grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. Eugene breathed evenly and nodded curtly. Being shot at _several times_ surely put him on the edge, again.

Ahkmenrah stayed behind them, peering over their shoulders, holding the tablet close to his chest. If that tablet was a key that opened a door... On the other side he would find Leonellus. _Yes_. He had to believe it would happen. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped that the Gods he used to pray to and that loved him in return would still listen to him.

Fredericks burst into the baggage car and had to stop runningly abruptly. He panted, looking out of himself, at that point way more drunk with anger than he was from all the drink he previously had. The Brit moved his head from side to side, his gun still held tightly in his hand, willing to use those last bullets he had on the thieves.

Merriell gave Eugene a silent signal by squeezing his shoulder one last time and both of them jumped on him. He groaned and fell over his back. He was clearly taller than both of them, but both Merriell and Eugene knew how to survive under circumstances that were much worse. The Cajun made sure to press his knees against his chest and Eugene did as much as possible to kick the gun from his hand. Fredericks fired the gun, as that was the only thing he could do. Eugene could move his foot out of the way in time but stomped on his wrist until he had to open his hand. Then he kicked it, as far as possible.

The gun bumped against Ahkmenrah's feet. He opened his eyes, picking it from the ground. The mummy raised his head sharply when he heard a loud noise and Merriell complaining, falling backwards and holding his nose.

“Motherfucker!” some blood was already staining his fingers and mouth.

Eugene turned his head, just to check briefly on Merriell, and that was when Fredericks got him. He grabbed him by the shirt and raised him up with very little effort. Granted, Eugene was never a very big guy in any sort of way, but the fact that he didn't even pant or struggle in the slightest was even _offensive_.

“You are going to give me that tablet.” Fredericks began to walk towards the back of the car. Eugene tripped over their own shoes, doing anything he could to stop him or at least make it more difficult for him to keep advancing.

“I don't have it!”

Nothing made the relic hunter angrier than being lied to. He kicked the door behind him and the wind was blowing widely, messing with Eugene's hair. The reporter looked around and noticed that the train ended right there. Fredericks pressed his back harshly over the railing. He grabbed onto his forearms, struggling to release himself before Fredericks could do something stupid.

“Merriell!” Ahkmenrah came out from his hiding spot and helped him to stand up with his hands full. The Cajun wiped his nose with his shirt, actually thanking him.

“Where's Eug— _Fuck_!” he cursed as soon as he saw them. “Let's go!”

Eugene turned his head to the side, doing his best to not think about how badly it would actually hurt to he thrown off the train. Maybe jumping wouldn't have been the greatest idea, considering how intimidating were the tracks of the railroad.

“Give me the fucking tablet, Sledge!”

And then Eugene saw Fredericks frown and complain lightly, slowly turning around. Ahkmenrah was holding the tablet with both of his hands and Merriell was looking at him, far from impressed. He had the chance to hit him on the head with a tablet made out of gold and knock him out for good and he went for a light pat on his back?

“This is the hardest you can hit him?!” he couldn't help himself. They were in the middle of a fight and that was the best thing he could do?

“I didn't want to hurt him too bad!” he excused himself, quickly, nervously looking from Merriell to Fredericks and Eugene. The Brit was too confused at that point to know how to react to _that_.

“And then you tell me you killed a man when he attacked your Leonellus and this is what you do when they attack Eugene?!”

“Set took control of me! I didn't do it _myself_!” Well, not completely. It was complicated to explain. Merriell wouldn't understand it.

“I can't believe this. You are useless. _Useless_!” he screamed before he pointed Fredericks' gun at him. He currently had both fire weapons and that _should_ give them some advantage. With some luck he still had a bullet there.

Eugene took his chance and used Fredericks confusion and slammed his forehead against his chin and released himself as the taller man groaned and covered the harmed spot with his hands. The redhead rejected violence. Tried to find his way out of any kind of conflict or directly avoid them. But this was too much. How badly Fredericks humiliated him since the beginning of this adventure, even before Cairo, was too much for Eugene's pride. It was that frustration and self-love that he had what pushed him to grab the gun Merriell carried on the waistband of his trousers. Now the Brit had two guns aimed at him. That made him smile and lean over the railing, chuckling and shaking his head. Clearly drunk but _always_ an idiot.

“I wouldn't laugh if I were in your position.” Eugene spoke sounding way more calmer than he should have been expected to be. That worried Merriell, who looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “Tell us everything you know about the tablet.”

“Oh, you don't even know its purpose?” Fredericks mocked him by tilting his head. “That's too bad... Because I do. I _sure_ do.”

“Then tell me and nothing will happen to you.” Eugene licked his lips.

“Eugene...” Merriell began. He once saw Eugene shoot enemies in cold blood, using a revolver. He saw his reaction to being asked to cease fire and how he had to be the one to comfort him and soothe him after the argument he had with Lieutenant Mac. He didn't want him to ever go to that dark ever again. Even less alone. Shooting someone during times of peace surely would have consequences. Eugene was better than making that kind of mistake.

Fredericks, unable to tame his arrogance, revealed the breast pocket of his jacket, so they would see he wasn't going to get any kind of a weapon from it. He showed them a neatly folded piece of paper and grinned: “Is this what you want? The translation of an ancient parchment that reveals where's the gate to the Underworld?” he teased. “Is this what you really want, Sledge?” It was the very same trick as he did with the maps. He just couldn't help himself.

“Stop playing games.” he warned him one last time, feeling his back becoming tense and his arm locking in place. He was ready to shoot. He knew himself under those situations. Eugene knew that he was capable of shooting after being forced to embrace so many situations he never wanted to find himself immersed in. And Fredericks was the only one to blame.

“Eugene, c'mon. I'll handle it.” He would do it for him. He could handle being put under the stress. And it goes without saying that he would go through something ugly and overly violent just to keep Eugene from having to experience it as well. He did keep him from getting Jap Gold after all, didn't he?

“Not even your friend believes you can do it.” Fredericks sighed and shook his head. He should have been given a more interesting enemy. The reporter was hardly a nuisance, not a real threat. He didn't believe he could pull the trigger, so he didn't have to act and pretend he would. Shelton, on the other hand, maybe would, but was clearly too worried about what the redhead would do. A little voice in his head told him he would be just fine. “You are just a spineless little man, Sledge. My God, how did you even make it this far in life? How did you manage to survive while having no courage at all?”

 _Oh, that's it_. He was not going to be belittled and shamed any more by this man. Eugene found strength within himself to carry on. He showed both courage and wisdom throughout his years. Sure, sometimes he lost his footing and it took him plenty to carry on, but that didn't mean he was weak. He was there, after all, going after his wish to become a respected reporter and he could keep his head high and say that he never hurt anyone to obtain any kind of personal benefit. He was a good and honest man and for sure he won't be judged by someone like _Fredericks_.

“I was a Marine, you bastard.” His body relaxed as soon as he tossed the gun over his shoulder, careless and knowing he didn't need it.

Merriell gasped and could manage to catch it. Thank God, he did so quickly enough to be able to witness Eugene snatching the paper from Frederick's hand and using all the strength he had to punch him right across the face. The relic hunter squealed when the impact on his cheek made him lose balance and fall over the railing and off the train.

Eugene huffed and closed his eyes for a second. His hand was throbbing, but it was worth it. They finally got rid of that idiot! When he turned around, he noticed that both Merriell and Ahkmenrah were looking at him, quite stunned that he finally decided to hit Fredericks right on the face. Well, Eugene considered he had plenty of reasons to do so.

After a couple of silence, Merriell blinked and mumbled: “That... That was...”

“... so cool!” Ahkmenrah finished the sentence for him, smiling brightly.

“It was about time he got what he deserved, huh?” he bit his lower lip, barely being able to hear Fredericks screaming anymore. He won't bother them for a long time. Eugene reached out and gently wiped Merriell's upper lip, that was still covered in blood and couldn't help but ask: “Why are you even wearing glasses?”


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you see, Merriell?” Eugene asked as the older veteran finally got out of the narrow corridor.  
> He looked around and swallowed. “I...” he cleared his throat. His reply was way clearer than the famously vague _I see wonderful things_. “Yeah, we found it.”  
> The tomb was tiny. Even smaller than the hidden chamber where they found Ahkmenrah. While barely having any items or decoration, both Merriell and Ahkmenrah were distracted by two different things. While Ahkmenrah rushed towards Leonellus' sarcophagus, Merriell approached the gate, touching it lightly with his fingers. Eugene felt conflicted for a second, but as soon as he heard Ahkmenrah miserable wailing, he moved instinctively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants a happy ending? You get a happy ending! You get a happy ending! Everybody gets a happy ending!!!!!
> 
> Aaaah! I'm so happy I finally got to finish this story. Ahk and Leo FINALLY get what they deserve. I told you that if you gave me enough time, I would make it right!!!
> 
> Now after this, I will take a little break. I feel like I deserve it! 
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading!!! I hope you will enjoy it!!

After the _conflict_ , the train stopped in Dendera. The police asked them a couple of questions: —their relationship with Fredericks, why did he attack them and if it was true that they stole something from him. Ahkmenrah was quiet during the whole procedure and both Eugene and Merriell lied well enough for them to assume they were completely innocent. That Fredericks got drunk and went after Merriell and that he tried to protect both his little brother and colleague from the Brit. No tablet was found among their belongings and neither were the guns, as they got rid of those little after Fredericks fell off the train.

As soon as the police left the train, letting them know that Fredericks would be arrested, they sneaked inside of the man's cabin and found the original parchment that told where the gate could be found.

Eugene carefully unfolded it over the bottom bunk and took the paper he snatched from Fredericks' hand moments ago. Since he didn't trust the man in the slightest, he turned to Ahkmenrah: “I will read the translation and you'll read the original. If there's something wrong, you'll let me know, alright?”

“Of course.” the Prince smiled, happy that he could finally be useful.

Merriell put both suitcases on the floor and made the younger man sit there, resting his hands over his shoulders after patting them lightly. The kid was insufferable, but maybe he was somehow becoming fond of him. Merriell forced himself to believe that he was only in good spirits because Eugene cleaned the blood of his nose so tenderly. It still hurt pretty badly, but it had been worth it, after all.

“Alright then...” Eugene mumbled before he started reading, loud and clear: “ _As for me, I am a free man of the land of Pharaoh_ [1] _, once The Greatest of the Directors of Craftsmanship_ [2], _now servant of the Place of Truth, I confess the secret that was shared with me by the Third King of the Four Kings._ ”

“Priest Didia...” Ahkmenrah whispered. “Yes, I remember him.” He was always very nice and very kind to him. He liked him plenty since he was the one that provided everything he needed before he visited Hathor's temple to ask the Goddess of Love for guidance. “I sent Priest Hanbar and Priest Jabari away after they tried to harm Leonellus.” Then he added, looking up at Merriell: “ _Twice_.”

“Your boy wasn't very popular, was he?” the Cajun snorted.

“They thought that because he was Roman he was violent and manipulative. He wasn't!” he rushed to add. “He was just quiet and that allowed them to depict him as something he wasn't.”

“The Third King was...?” Eugene asked, to make sure that Ahkmenrah wouldn't deviate from his current task.

“My father.” the boy answered.

“ _No heir was ever loved with more devotion than the Prince was loved by the Great Ruler. The boy was given the Strength of Ra and was Blessed with the Protection of the Moon_.” the redhead kept reading and Ahkmenrah smiled, gesturing at himself. “ _And so loved was he, that life did not seem to be enough. For his heart was light as a feather during boyhood, The One with the Strenght of Ra would not have to bow during Anubis' Judgment. The gate of The Field of Reeds would be opened to him, and welcomed as Pharaoh._ ”

“So that's the gate we are tryin' to find, isn't it?” Merriell asked. “So he can cross and we can finally get rid of him.”

“Hey!” Ahkmenrah pouted.

“Looks like it.” he nodded. “Let's see if it says where we can find it... _Death came for the One with the Strength of Ra before his time. He was dead in his room and the Young Lion was found guilty without judgment_.”

“...What?” the Prince leaned forward and brushed his fingers over the parchment. Before Eugene could ask him if that translation was accurate, he shook his head. “They couldn't possibly blame Leonellus for my death.” He didn't know what happened to him, but he knew that Leonellus would have never hurt him. No matter what, under no circumstance he would have hurt him. He loved him as much as he did. “It's not what happened.”

Merriell squeezed Ahkmenrah's shoulders and said: “Let's keep readin', huh?”

Eugene doubted for a couple of seconds, scanning the rest of the translation, and looked at Merriell. The Cajun sighed and shrugged slightly, knowing that the truth would be a hard blow for the Prince. But there was no other way to do this.

“ _He was condemned by the Soul of Amun-Ra..._ ”

“ _Kahmunrah_.” Ahkmenrah whispered. “Condemned by my brother...”

Merriell saw that coming. As soon as he found out that Ahkmenrah had a brother and that the mummy was the only thing he stood between the man and the throne, then... It was rather easy for him to figure out what happened. Still, he stayed in silence, not moving his hands away from Ahkmenrah's shoulders.

“ _...to rest in Anukis' arms forevermore_.”

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes even if his breathing became far more rushed and nervous. “They drowned him?” he asked with a very weak voice. “No, they wouldn't... No, of course not! Kawab would have done something about it!” he opened his eyes once again, fighting against the tears.

“ _The Vizier decided to sacrifice the Young Lion, for he wasn't a free man and his life meant less than the death of the One with the Strength of Ra._ ” Eugene continued, seeing Ahkmenrah hide his face with his hands from the corner of his eyes. “I'm sorry.” he caressed his hair, tenderly. “ _He had to make time work in his favor. The body of the Prince was not safe in the Palace, for the Soul of Amun-Ra wanted to offer his deceased young brother to Anukis, so he wouldn't cross the Gate_.”

Why wouldn't his brother want him to reach Aaru? Why would he want to discard his body on the river? From where did that hate come from? Did he not know that Ahmenrah loved and respected him and that he wanted to give him a more fitting position than his father did? The mummy sobbed and shook his head. This is what truly happened?

Merriell sighed and embraced him from behind and gestured at Eugene for him to keep going. _The faster they do this...._

“ _The One with the Strength of Ra was taken to the grave of his Father, where he would wait to be reunited with the one that his heart accepted with the Key to the Gate. We recovered the body of the Slave from the River when the Sun was setting, with his hands tied, with Khepri around his neck and paler than no child I ever saw_. _Anukis brought him to the riverbank and offered him back to where he belonged_.”

When the youngest boy discovered his face, wet with tears, he nodded very lightly while hiccuping, to let him understand that everything was correct, so far.

“ _And because our rightful heir and Pharaoh embraced him as one of us and loved him as a partner, we gave him the end he deserved, hidden away from the eyes of the Soul of Amun-Ra. The Young Lion's lungs were given to Hapi; The Young Lion's stomach was given to Duamutef; The Young Lion's liver was given to Imsety; The Young Lion's intestines were given to Qebehsenuef_ [3].” then he smiled, briefly. “ _The Young Lion's heart was given to The Strength of Ra by choie and already rested in Aaru, where they would meet again._ ”

“You heard that?” Merriell tried to cheer him up. “Not everythin' is lost.”

“ _But for the lovers to reunite, we must take the Prince and the Key to the Slave and the Gate. There, the One with the Strength of Ra would walk under the Threshold and be welcomed by the Gods and the ones who gave him their Heart_.”

Ahkmenrah did his best to wipe the tears away. They allowed Leonellus' murder to give him enough time to keep his brother from disgracing his corpse. Oh, what did he do? He thought he was fair and honest and yet, the ones he cared about the most either suffered because of him or betrayed him. When Eugene read that they couldn't be reunited after Kawab was accused and executed for helping or perhaps letting Leonellus kill him, he shook his head. Why did he betray him? He trusted him. What did he do, exactly? _Oh, Gods._ He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know.

And the Priest that wrote this confession was clearly powerless and didn't have either people on his side or the means to take Ahkmenrah's sarcophagus and the tablet from The Valley of the Kings to Saqqara. Eugene turned the paper and noticed how the person who translated this also drew a map with the directions that were explained in the parchment. They will have to believe that Leonellus' tomb existed and that the gate was there, still.

Merriell was massaging Ahkmenrah's shoulder, who kept crying. _Poor boy_.

Eugene approached him and crouched by his side, leaning over his knees. “Listen... I know this is very hard.” He just found out a terrible truth. Probably a conspiration against him to usurp the throne, planned by his own brother and most trusted advisor. And that his lover got the blame and was died as a slave. “But you can't do anything about that, anymore.” They couldn't go back in time and save either of them. “We need to continue, alright?” he held his hands and squeezed them. He looked at up at Merriell who nodded. “You have us. The both of us. We won't stop until you get to reunite with Leonellus. You need to stay hopeful. Just a little bit more.”

Ahkmenrah nodded, but it was very complicated to stay hopeful knowing that they killed Leonellus because of him.

*** * ***

They arrived to Memphis little before sunrise. They had just enough time to find a hotel and leave Ahkmenrah on the bed before the boy died.

Both of them agreed on resting for a couple of hours, since they didn't get to do so all too properly since this adventure began. Merriell stayed awake until he could tell for sure that Eugene was sleeping soundly, making sure that he wouldn't have nightmares.

It was Eugene who woke him up with the sound of his typewriter about four hours later. The redhead apologized even if the Cajun noticed that he was typing rather slowly, trying to be as silent as possible.

“I will stop. I can't write about this. Not until I know for sure that it's over.”

Eugene was clearly worried about Ahkmenrah and how defeated he looked the previous night. It was complicated to comfort someone when his only peace of mind had to come after leaving the realm of the living.

“It's gonna be fine.” Merriell mumbled, thinking that maybe if they kept saying that, it would eventually become true. “We'll figure out tonight. Let's not think about it until the time comes, huh?” he sat down on the bed and arched his back before he began to put his shoes back on.

“I can't help but think that maybe we will get to see it, you know?” Eugene muttered, leaving his typewriter back on his suitcase. “The Field of Reeds.” And it was impossible to ignore how his voice became hopeful. Eugene was a believer and maybe he would see the evidence that there was _actually_ something after death, not only blind faith.

“Not because their idea of paradise exists that means that there's a Heaven waitin' for those who are fair and obedient.” he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

_Well, what else could it mean?_

Instead of confronting him —they argued plenty during this trip, there was no need for more _bickering_ —, Eugene decided to tease: “What do you need to believe in God, Snaf?”

 _A second chance_ , he wanted to answer. Instead, he smirked and said: “Well, that trick of turnin' water into wine could come handy, here and there.”

The younger veteran snorted, _amused_.

Merriell looked up at him after tying his shoes and bit his lower lip, smiling slightly. He patted his own knees and stood up from the bed. It took him a few seconds to speak, but then he asked: “I still need to find a present for Ellie. Do you...” he shrugged, looking at the door. “wanna come with me? Just to keep ourselves busy until the Sun sets.”

Eugene parted his lips but he turned his head towards Ahkmenrah.

Before he could say anything, Merriell added, careless that he could sound desperate: “If we leave the _do not disturb_ sign, no one will find out. It will be fine.”

“ _Okay_.”

Merriell blinked and looked at him, like it was surprising to him that he agreed to accept his offer.

“But first, let me...” Eugene whispered to himself and accomodated Ahkmenrah's body and covered it with the sheets properly, to make sure that if someone ignored the sign and opened the door, would see someone giving them their back, fast asleep. “Like this.” then Eugene picked his bag and put it over his shoulder. He let Merriell carry the tablet with him, as a symbol of trust and... Well, Eugene didn't want to lose it a second time. “We can leave, now.”

And during the rest of the day, Merriell could only think: _I wish night would never come_.

He didn't want it to end. He wanted the Sun up in the sky for as many hours as possible. Just walk with Eugene, stretching the afternoon past midnight, saying that Ellie was still a toddler and that she would break practically anything he would get her. Any toy Eugene suggested was denied, just so they would stay there a little more. The redhead didn't complain at any moment. Neither he looked tired. In fact, he was smiling and explaning him that Bill Leyden, — _that short and clumsy bastard_ Merriell remembered him perfectly—, was working on the radio.

“No way.” Merriell snorted.

“He is!” he nodded. “He told me that he would want to, eventually, work on TV. But that he is happy with wherever this will take him.”

“C'mon, Sledgehammer!” Maybe the fact that they were talking about someone that used to be part of their company was what pushed him to use his old nickname in that moment. “Bill Leyden is too short to be in front of a camera. They'd need a stool to get him on frame.”

Eugene laughed and shook his head. Merriell felt a thrill of joy. _Don't let the night come, please_.

“We have no room to judge Bill when it comes to _height_ , Snaf.”

“Maybe not, but neither of us wants to be a TV host, huh?”

“...True.” he nodded, still smiling.

“Burgie got married.” Merriell added, quite abruptly. He was the only one he stayed in contact with after the war. They were rather close and he suspected that their former sergeant actually enjoyed looking after them all. Even if the war ended. “I thought I'd see you there...” He kept the part of how nervous he got just to think about meeting Eugene in Marquez for himself.

“Yeah...” Eugene sighed. “I told him I wouldn't be in Alabama.” He didn't even remember the lie that he came up with when he saw the invitation over their dining table and how his mother even offered to go with him.

“...But you were.”

“But I was.” he nodded, slowly. “I just...” he swallowed. “I just didn't want to go. I didn't want them to see me... When I accomplished so little. I didn't want them to ask me how I was doing or which were my plans. I was ashamed just thinking about it.” His life didn't progress for a very long time and Eugene hid as much as possible to avoid seeing their reaction. “And... Thinking you could be there... didn't help much.” Eugene eventually admitted. “But I can't blame it on you. It was my fault.”

Merriell licked his lips and looked down before he nodded. “I understand.”

“I'm sure it was a beautiful wedding, though.” Eugene hoped he wasn't missed.

“It was. He was as happy as he could be. And Florence looked beautiful and got along just fine with his family.” Merriell was proud of Burgie. He deserved everything good that happened to him. “He had a kid.”

“Did he?” the redhead smiled. “A boy or a girl.”

“A little boy.” he shook his head and grinned. “Looks like we are fallin' behind, huh?”

“Ah, I am not sure about having children.” Eugene teased about what was obvious. He bumped his shoulder against the Cajun's. “But I wouldn't be opposed to having another dog.” Just thinking about Deacon made him smile. How much did he miss that old boy!

“I've never had a dog.” Merriell couldn't help but mumble, careless that it could sound like a petition for Eugene to include him in his future plans.

“The best friend a man can have.” he hummed, as convinced as he could be.

Merriell nodded and for some reason he began to think about his cousins. He didn't really have friends growing up, but he had them. Mamaw told him to always be there for them and they would do the same for him. And they did, to this day. No matter how complicated things could get.

“You've got any cousins? You don't, do you?” While Merriell didn't talk much about himself during the war, he always asked Eugene about his life back home. He liked hearing the boy speak and allowing himself to have a chance to let his mind wander off the battlefield at night or while they marched.

“I don't.” Eugene shook his head. “My father has no siblings and my mother's brother has always been...” he shrugged a bit. “Very unlike her. He doesn't like commitment.” He always loved spending time with Uncle John because the man was careless and always encouraged him to misbehave. And that, when he was a child, seemed to be the perfect company. As he grew up, he changed his mind. “He got married when he was already in his late forties. It didn't last much, though. A couple of years only.” And Eugene was quite convinced that the reason behind the divorce was the fact that Uncle John didn't want to have children _no matter what_.

“You are missin' out, then.” Merriell couldn't help but brag a bit.

“I bet it's wonderful.” Eugene agreed with him. He only had an older brother that wasn't always kind to him.

“It is... Until Roe tells me what to do and Lulu says that I _desperately need a partner_.” Neither of them were wrong. And Merriell knew what he was missing. _Who_ , in fact. He was currently trying to get him back.

After a brief silence in which both of them kept walking, not so bothered about finding a present for the little girl, Eugene licked his lips and eventually asked: “Is she wrong?”

Merriell didn't want to lie. Not when being honest was the only thing that could help him to get him back.

“No. No, she's not wrong.”

He would never admit ever saying that to her, though.

*** * ***

They arrived to the hotel room when the Sun was setting. His little wish couldn't stop time, but if this was coming to and end, then Merriell was happy to end on good terms with Eugene. Better this than what they used to have... right?

Instead of reading what he wrote before leaving, Eugene spent the following minutes chatting with Merriell about everything and nothing. Just wanting to hear his voice and pretending to condemn his tasteless jokes while bitting his lower lip. It made him feel good. It was like that pride, anger and fear were slowly dissolving.

Ahkmenrah _woke up_ little after they arrived and to keep him from thinking about what he discovered the previous night, Eugene suggested leaving right away.

To Merriell's misfortune, they could only get to Leonellus' tomb with another light aircraft. It was too dark and they would waste too much time. They crossed the Nile and landed on the necropolis in less than an hour, but it was more than enough for the Cajun to crawl out, landing over a dune. Eugene shook his head, amused, and paid the pilot before he lead Ahkmenrah towards the Cajun.

“Getting used to it?” Eugene couldn't help but tease, squeezing Merriell's shoulder.

“I can't do this shit. I can't keep doin' this shit.” he panted. He was dizzy and digging his fingers in the sand, to make sure that he was on solid ground. He truly wasn't the best trip companion a reporter could have.

“You did well, Snaf.” he patted his back, chuckling. He spent the whole trip cursing and holding onto his seat for dear life. Eugene turned towards the younger boy, who didn't even question the fact that they were flying. The mummy was clearly lost in thought. The redhead smiled at him and kindly asked: “Are you okay, Ahk?”

“Yeah...” he whispered, absently.

Eugene wished he had the certainty that he would reunite with Leonellus at the moment. He wished he could swear that it would happen so the boy would stop suffering. “Let's start searching, okay?” he asked as the air lightcraft took off. It would come back in a couple of hours as they agreed. Eugene grabbed his flashlight and said: “Come on, Snafu!”

“I'm tryin'!” he huffed as he forced himself to get back on his feet.

Ahkmenrah could only observe them. He idly walked behind them, noticing that the two of them spoke a little more. Smiled at each other. Pharaoh was happy for them, truly. He thought that it was clear that they still felt plenty for each other. Why waste time when both of them were so close and so willing to make the other happy? If he only had that chance. If the only thing that stood between him and Leonellus was just an argument...

“He ain't diggin'!” Merriell mumbled, accusative.

“He's going through something, Snaf.” Eugene sighed, shaking his head. “Just help me out, okay? The tomb must be around here... Right under our feet!”

“Right under our feet...” Merriell repeated, standing up and strolling around. It didn't look like there was _anything_. Granted, maybe he didn't have all that much patience, but digging to find a tomb in the middle of the desert at night didn't seem like the best thing he could do. Not when he could have convinced Eugene to have dinner. He had to believe he had a chance. That's the only way he would get it. “Let me tell you, Gene, it doesn't look like there's any— _Fuck_!”

And just like that, the desert swallowed him up. Eugene jumped and rushed towards him. Ahkmenrah gasped and that sudden accident allowed him to stop dwelling in his own thoughts.

“Merriell! Are you okay?!” Eugene crouched and aimed the flashlight at the hole he made.

The Cajun landed over some stone steps and rolled on the ground. Not only he had to deal with the pain on his nose, now he would have a sore back too. He groaned and managed to sit up.

“Get that light off my fuckin' face, Christ!”

“Sorry!” he quickly apologized. “Can you see anything?”

Merriell turned around and saw a narrow corridor and then darkness and something glowing. But how? Neither Eugene's flashlight nor the moonlight could touch the surface of that object that he couldn't quite see, yet.

“No, but there's something down here!” he replied, standing up and feeling a pang on pain on his lower back. “Fuck...” he complained once again. “I might have found it!” But he needed Eugene down here to enlighten the way and make sure.

“You are like a lucky charm when it comes to finding tombs!”

“Yeah, no shit...!” But his ass always paid the consequences. “Just get down here, will you?!”

“One second!”

Then Merriell heard Eugene helping the kid, asking him to be careful so he wouldn't hurt himself. He arched his back a bit, attempting to get over the pain and having to scoot over as soon as the Prince joined him down there.

“Catch.” said Eugene, throwing the flashlight at him.

Merriell assumed that now he had the right to lead this little expedition. At first he used the flashlight to see if he could discovered whatever that he saw glowing. He could only see a surface of gold. Oh, he might end up becoming rich, after all!

He heard Eugene landing over the steps and almost slipping. The stone was smooth and slippery. It made no sense. If this tomb had been recently discovered, then the steps should be sharp, still. Something told Merriell that maybe this tomb was reused plenty of times before they decided to store the corpse of the slave there.

“Careful with the ceilin'.” Even Merriell, short as he was, had to crouch a little bit as he went inside the corridor. The weight of the sand made it budge and he doubted this was a good idea. It was pretty damn claustrophobic.

Ahkmenrah put his hands on Merriell's back, following closely behind and obeying. His fingers were trembling and the Cajun could tell that he was hardly ready to face the situation. If someone ever took him to visit Eugene's grave, he would fucking lose it.

“Remember, no matter what happens or... Or what we find here...” Eugene was still doing his best to calm the boy down. “We are here with you. To help you, okay?”

“Okay.” Ahkmenrah breathed.

“What do you see, Merriell?” Eugene asked as the older veteran finally got out of the narrow corridor.

He looked around and swallowed. “I...” he cleared his throat. His reply was way clearer than the famously vague _I see wonderful things_ [4]. “Yeah, we found it.”

The tomb was tiny. Even smaller than the hidden chamber where they found Ahkmenrah. While barely having any items or decoration, both Merriell and Ahkmenrah were distracted by two different things. While Ahkmenrah rushed towards Leonellus' sarcophagus, Merriell approached the gate, touching it lightly with his fingers. Eugene felt conflicted for a second, but as soon as he heard Ahkmenrah miserable wailing, he moved instinctively.

“Hey...” he whispered, caressing his back.

Ahkmenrah was speaking a language he couldn't understand. He cried and kissed the surface of the wooden sarcophagus. Displayed over a stone slab, there were three mummies more guarding the body of the slave. Eugene could easily tell that those were cats[5]. Two close to each shoulder of the sarcophagus and another at the feet. They were looking away from their owner, clearly protecting him from those who would want to hurt him beyond death. Eugene scanned Leonellus' sarcophagus and it was so different from Ahkmenrah's. The fact that it was made out of wood instead of gold was a stark difference between the two of them. The eyes painted on it were big and green and the red crowning his head made it look more like a lion than a man. Other details of the face were missed since Ahkmenrah kept kissing it and wishing it could have hands so he could lace them together once more.

Eugene tried to pry him away from the sarcophagus and only accomplished because Ahkmenrah was weak as he could be. When he saw the mummies of Niveus, Ater and Rubra, he could only sob harder and cover his face with his hands. They destroyed everything they had. They wiped the love they had for each other and those who were ever involved, even those who were far more innocent than both of them. He failed to protect them.

“It wasn't your fault.” Eugene whispered, holding him. “Don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault.”

It was hard to believe him when Ahkmenrah saw the sandals that he once gave Leonellus as a present and as the symbol of his respect and love for him. Over the sarcophagus, they embedded Khepri's crimson amulet on the wood. It didn't protect him. Neither through the night or day. His treasure, his poor beloved Leonellus.

“I love you, I love you. I'm so sorry. I wanted to give you the best I had. Of me, of my kingdom. You deserved to be by my side, as you were the greatest and most honest man I ever met.” he kept whimpering, reaching to touch the wooden surface again.

Eugene still couldn't understand him, but letting him throw himself over the sarcophagus while being in such an unstable tomb was not a good idea. They couldn't waste any time, that was why he turned to look at Merriell and the gate.

The gate that hardly looked like a gate but more like another sarcophagus. This time, vertical and engraved on the mudbricks, it seemed to act like the pillar that sustained the whole structure of the tomb. Eugene could only hope that nothing would happen to them as soon as they would try to open it.

“Incredible...” Merriell muttered, finally stepping back. He never saw something like that in his life.

“It's Khonsu.” Eugene said.

Ever since they found Ahkmenrah, he did his best to learn as much as possible when it came to Egyptian mythology and their ancient customs. Just to know his way around things. After all, he was a reporter, he didn't have to know things from scratch but find the answers to the questions that might arise during the investigation. And he wouldn't always have an ancient mummy that would solve his doubts.

The Gods were easy to tell apart once you knew which were their symbols, even if this portrayal was missing a few like the crook and flail. Still, the fact the deity was mummified and had a sidelock left quite clear that it was the Traveller. And even if that wasn't enough, there was no way of getting it wrong with the stunning moon disk crowning his head, made out of chalcedony, pale and regal. The God seemed to be cupping something over his chest, that currently had a hole that could only be filled with its key.

 _Those who offer their noble heart to Khonsu shall be allowed to walk by my side in the Field of Reeds_.

And there was Khonsu to open the gate and let those who loved Ahkmenrah, body and soul, reunite with the deceased Pharaoh.

Eugene was thrilled. This was practically like meeting Saint Peter at the gates of Heaven.

But this wasn't for him. He had to stay put and not let the idea of what he might end up seeing cloud his judgment. He looked at Ahkmenrah, who couldn't possibly look away from the sarcophagus. He tenderly turned him around so he would face him and focus on him for the following seconds.

“Hey...” he whispered.

“How can you hurt someone you love so badly?” Ahkmenrah asked and Eugene could finally understand him.

“It wasn't your fault.” Eugene denied. “You protected him as much as you could. It was them who didn't understand who he was.”

“I tried to make them see.” he sobbed and shook his head.

“It doesn't matter. There are none so blind as those who will not see.” he smiled, small, caressing Ahkmenrah's hair. “But you shouldn't think about that.” he whispered. “Not anymore. You don't have him here. He has been long gone.” And there was no way to recover Leonellus. He wasn't alive like Ahkmenrah was in his as soon as the Sun went down. “But... But not because he isn't _here_ , that doesn't mean he is not _there_. Do you understand?”

Ahkmenrah looked up at him and that didn't seem like it was all that comforting to him.

“You have no other choice than to believe.” Merriell agreed with Eugene, stepping closer to them. “You have to trust that you'll find him there and cross that gate.” Ahkmenrah then focused his eyes on him. “You know what we spoke about, kid. Expect somethin' from this. It might as well... _happen_.” It's what he kept hoping for, after all.

“What if nothing happens?” What if he never reunites with Leonellus? He did his best to stay hopeful but seeing his tomb was a hard blow of reality. They killed his lover and blamed him for his murder. They drowned him in the river, hoping he would never have a second chance to go back to Pharaoh's tender embrace. “What if his spirit... got lost?” The Gods welcomed him into their land. That should be enough reason for him to be allowed in Aaru. But at this point, when nothing made any sense, he couldn't speak in absolutes.

“What if it his spirit didn't get lost and has been waitin' for you since he died?” Merriell interrupted him. “It would be about _damn_ time you go back to him, don't you think?”

Ahkmenrah blinked and nodded, slightly.

“Then... Do it.”

It was truly as simple as that. If he wanted to see if Leonellus was truly in Aaru, he would have to go to Aaru and look out for him. If the Gods loved him and they allowed Leonellus to live in their eternal realm, then they would resume their story where they left it. And if not... Then he would keep searching for him.

Ahkmenrah pressed his lips and wiped his face with his hands. He finally nodded again, way more convinced this time.

“Alright, then.”

Merriell returned Eugene the flashlight and opened his bag. He got the tablet out and in that precise moment, he was only thinking about what would happen next. As soon as it would be over, he would mourn the chance of selling the tablet, but by now... He was doing the right thing. And that seemed to be enough even if the kid was _truly_ a pain in the ass.

“Be careful, alright?” Eugene muttered, so casually as the Cajun approached the gate.

He licked his lips and resisted the urge to smile. He worried about him, now?

“Yeah, no problem.” he replied, hoping to sound as careless as Eugene pretended to be.

As soon as the tablet hoovered over the gate, it escaped from Merriell's hands, taking its rightful place. It was almost like it had magnets or something; he couldn't even explain the strength it had. Like the gate had been waiting a millennia — _or four_ — to open, at last.

He still cursed and pulled his hands back, to save his fingers to end up trapped or even severed. In that same moment, he felt Eugene's hand on his back, pulling after grasping the fabric of his shirt. Like he was getting him back to safety.

What followed wasn't eerie but it was odd at best. Not something either of them would ever expect to witness. Even less in an adventure that only aimed to expose a man as a simple burglar. Merriell joined the other two and Eugene wrapped his fingers around his wrist, looking, fascinated. The gold began to glow and the moon disk reflected a glow that didn't come from the flashlight that he carried in his free hand. It was pale and silver, enlightening the way. A little sand fell from the ceiling over their heads as the gate slowly moved backwards and then slowly to the side, allowing light into the tomb.

In Aaru, the Sun was always bright. Those who lived there never had the need to sleep, for they were never tired. Life was easy and and fulfilling, always bringing moments of happiness. The reeds were tall and swayed from side to side like a calm and golden sea. They reflected Ra's might, for that was the perfect garden created by the Gods for those who had been fair and good. The land achieved only by a few and the land that had been waiting for Pharaoh to arrive. Still, there wasn't a familiar face in sight. Not yet, but the sight was so mesmerizing that could even tempt the living.

Or so Merriell thought, for that was the most beautiful place he ever saw. Not even New Orleans could compare to it. And it wasn't because the city from Louisiana could compete against paradise, but because it held so many good memories and symbolized peace during war. He swallowed thickly and turned his head to look at Eugene, who was enchanted by it. Now he had something that could shape his idea of Heaven. If it existed, it had be as beautiful as this.

Ahkmenrah exhaled, obtaining the attention of the other two men. Now this _did_ look like Aaru. He noticed that his hands were trembling, so he held the together, closed his eyes and nodded at himself. The last steps. He only had to be brave enough to take them. Find Leonellus. There the Gods would guide him.

“Okay...” he whispered to himself. He had to believe. He briefly looked at the sarcophagus one last time. Leonellus wasn't there. Not really. Hasn't been for a long time. The mummy turned towards both veterans and smiled, lightly. “Thank you so much.” he wrapped his arms around Eugene. “For everything.” he pressed a kiss against his cheek before he moved towards Merriell. “I will never forget this. I'll look after the two of you. _Always_.” he held the Cajun who couldn't help but make a funny face when Ahkmenrah kissed his forehead.

Eugene chuckled slightly at that.

“Alright, alright.” he cleared his throat when Ahkmenrah stepped back. “Take care, huh? Tell Leonellus plenty about us, so he knows we are heroes.”

“ _Heroes_.” Eugene repeated, rolling his eyes. “Friends.”

“Friends.” Ahkmenrah nodded and smiled widely.

“Good luck.” the redhead finally said before Ahkmenrah took one final deep breath.

He turned around and rolled his shoulders. The sunlight of Aaru welcomed him first, over his feet and legs. As soon as he walked past the threshold, anything that was given to him and didn't belong in Aaru disappeared. His clothes changed and he was greeted as Pharaoh, with the tunic and cape he wore before he was murdered after taking the throne. The fabric matched the color of the Sun and the reeds, orange and golden, with his arms glowing because of his bracelets. In Aaru there would be no need for a crown, just seeing him would be enough to know who he was. The air over his cheeks was gentle, like it was caressing them.

And then he heard them.

 _Oh, our beloved boy is back_ , breathed Hathor. _How much we missed you, child_ , beamed Isis with her hands on his shoulders. _I told you he would find his way back, it was such a long trip, but he's finally back home_ , Khonsu pulled his fingertips, encouraging him to walk forward.

“...Holy shit.” Merriell could only whisper after witnessing how Ahkmenrah was literally clothed _with sunlight_. That was... pretty damn impressive, yeah. He was even glowing and yet, this time, he didn't feel envious. After all, it was his hand that Eugene was holding.

“Yeah...” the only could only whisper. He licked his lips as they observed how Ahkmenrah slowly walked forward, leaving them behind. “I mean... You can say whatever you want, but if this exists, Heaven exists too.” And Merriell could never convince him of otherwise after tonight.

“Okay, I'll give you that.”

The gate knew that it fulfilled its task. They heard it move, before it closed, _forever_. It was a one time thing. It would never open again and for no one else. Before Merriell could even think about recovering the tablet, the gold fused into the gate and turned black with rust. But that was hardly worrisome. The both of them knew they were in big trouble when the gate started to sink in the sand and the ceiling cracked loudly.

“Eugene.” Merriell warned.

“Let's go!” he pulled his hand, taking the lead and enlightening the way with the flashlight. Just when they were crossing the narrow corridor, the ceiling of the tomb collapsed completely. The one over their heads was treatening to do the same.

“Come on!” Merriell screamed right after him, releasing Eugene's hand when they reached the stairs. He put his hands over his back, pushing him up, so he would rush it as much as possible.

But those steps were stupidly smooth and when Eugene was about to reach the surface, he slipped and had to claw his way out of the tomb as the sand buried everything underneath. Eugene gasped and had to use all of his strength to pull his leg out as it ended up trapped in the sand. As it happened with Merriell.

In the middle of that desert, at night, dark as it could be, Eugene heard himself pant, _terrified_.

_How would it be if he was no longer here? If he was no longer alive? Wouldn't that be worse?_

“Merriell.” he gasped. “Merriell!” and then fear and anxiety rose to his throat, chocking him. Eugene dropped the flashlight and started digging, way faster than he ever did during the war. With more strength, pulling the sand out of his way, using his nails and his fingers until those hurt and he could see Merriell's hand trying to hold onto whatever that it was that he could use while he was suffocating. “I'm here!”

He kept digging until he could hold his hand and start pulling. Then he hooked his arm under Merriell's armpit and pulled him out. God must have lent him some of His strength because it made no sense that he could have accomplished such deed all by himself. When Merriell came to the surface, he started coughing and panting. Eugene patted him harshly on the back, so he would spit all the sand that he swallowed.

“Are you okay? Are you alright? Oh, God. Mer, are you okay?” he kept asking over and over again and he continued to pat until the older veteran asked him to stop by slightly pushing him away. “I'm so sorry, I slipped! I didn't... I'm sorry!” he practically pleaded, wiping the moist spots of his face, like the corner of his eyes and his chin. “Are you okay? Can you talk?” he made him turn his face once he seemed to have his breathing under control.

Merriell nodded and sand fell from his curls.

“Oh, thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he breathed before he pulled Merriell into a tight hug. “I thought I lost you for a second.” And that was _terrifying_. Put everything under a new perspective and it was scary and heartbreaking as it could be. Being without Merriell was pointless. He wanted him. He wanted him back. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's fine...” he could manage to reply, closing his eyes as his heart slowly calmed down. Almost ending up buried under the sand and dying was surely an experience that could leave your _breathless_. “I'm startin' to think... there was a curse, after all...” Ever since they intruded Ahkmenrah's tomb, Merriell had been dealing with quite a few things like being shoot at, punched in the nose, falling inside another tomb and now _this_.

Eugene leaned back and cupped his face, making sure that he was fine. Only then he allowed himself to chuckle slightly at his joke. He shook his head and brushed Merriell's hair, as it was covered in sand. The other man closed his eyes and fell over Eugene.

 _What a fucking adventure_.

Eugene held him once again, as tight as before.

*** * ***

When Merriell woke up, he was even disoriented after spending the whole day sleeping. He rubbed his eyes and arched his back. This time, Eugene wasn't in the room. He did see, though, that he left a little note on the nighstand between their beds.

_I'm at the bar, let's talk when you wake up? -Eugene_

Oh, shit.

Oh, fuck!

He quickly dressed up with one of the linen suits Lou gave him before leaving and that he didn't get to wear yet. The one he put on when he arrived to Cairo was to impress Webster. This one was to impress Eugene. He hoped it would work because last time, he only used it to trick Fredericks into thinking he was a Belgian egyptologist.

Still, he was so eager to see Eugene and have that talk, that he didn't waste time brushing his hair. It was far too much work and he didn't want the other man to think he was trying that hard... even if he clearly was. He was dressing up for him, after all.

He left the room after slammed the door after him and ran down the corridor, ignoring the elevator and hoping that using the stairs would help him blow some steam. Whatever they were going to talk about... It would be alright. Whatever that Eugene decided, he would accept it and... Fuck it, it's not true. If Eugene told him he wanted to resume his life, all by himself, he probably would make a scene. So, his mind changed. He had to think that Eugene would give him a second chance. Yeah, be confident. _Real confidence, not pretense_.

Merriell crossed the lobby and brushed his jacket and his shirt, as he wiped the sweat on his palms. It would be fine, it would be alright.

And yet, as soon as he opened the door and he saw Eugene sitting at the bar, playing with his pipe and eyeing at the beautiful girl on the stage, in charge of entertaining the tourists with songs both in French and English, his body turned all rigid. Eugene didn't dress up in any special way. He was still wearing comfy clothes as he has been doing during their entire adventure. But damn him if he wasn't a sight for sore eyes. Either way, Eugene established the etiquette for tonight and that pushed Merriell to remove his jacket not to feel like a complete buffoon.

“Hey.” he heard himself saying when he reached the stool by his side, already sounding desperate as he could be. _Smooth_.

Eugene looked away from the girl and the orchestra behind her and smiled at him. “Hey.” he smoked while Merriell asked a drink. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Yeah, feels like I slept for centuries.” he nodded. “You?”

“Enough to keep going.” he shrugged. “I just sent the first five hundred words of my article to my boss.” He wouldn't accept any less and well... Eugene was lucky that he was actually inspired that afternoon. The adventure was over and he could tell it as it was... Well, in the way that the editor-in-chief told him to. No ancient tablets allowed. And maybe that was for the best, after all. “And some pictures. He was pretty pleased.”

“That's good.” Merriell gulped down his drink and asked for another.

Eugene frowned a bit at that but didn't comment on it.

“So you are gonna leave... right away or...?” he finally dared to ask.

“The thing is...” Eugene cleared his throat. “I am thinking about going back to Thebes. It feels like El-Badawi should know about what we found out about Leonellus. I think Ahkmenrah would like that. For his existence to be proved and for their stories to be linked.”

“But his tomb ended up buried in the sand. I know because they almost find me with it.” he snorted.

The redhead didn't even want to think about that moment of pure horror. “I'm sure she would be able to dig it up.” It was her work; her biggest passion. “And I have the feeling that she's the right person to tell that story.” Not him, his only work here was to explain how men like Fredericks kept looting while Egypt was about to go through very important changes.

“So you are leavin'... when?”

“Tomorrow, maybe.” Eugene shrugged. “I am in no rush, though...” he trailed off. “There are things... There are things I would...” he looked down at his glass and touched it with trembling fingers. Fear? No. This wasn't fear anymore. Fear was thinking he lost Merriell. This was him being nervous about not being able to express himself properly. “There are things I would like to do, before that.”

“...Yeah?” Merriell swallowed thickly. He wasn't looking at Eugene's face, either. They weren't looking at each other because they were still gathering the strength to speak about this. It was warm, it was there. They had to take care of it while it lasted. Merriell cleared his throat and undid the first button of his shirt, feeling a bit more like himself. There was no need to impress Eugene, was it? He knew him pretty well, by now. He didn't have to surprise him or trick him. He only had... to be honest. Be himself. That was _enough_.

“Yes.” Eugene replied a little stiffly.

Merriell knew the boy, by now. That rectitude. That impecable morality. That desire to do what was right and fair was sometimes a little constrictive. Eugene wanted to be brave and stubborn, but many times he was too doubtful or perhaps nervous to take the first step. Merriell didn't mind making things easier for him. That's why he extended his hand, touching the fingers Eugene had around his drink with his own, brief and sweet. When the redhead sighed and licked his lower lip, Merriell asked: “Can I go with you?”

That was... That simple question was made by someone who left him, time ago. Now that same person wanted to go after Eugene's tracks. Merriell saw his mistake and was willing to make things right. He knew what he wanted. He knew that Eugene was worth it and because Merriell apologized and because Ahkmenrah's advice was, after all, so wise, Eugene knew what he had to say.

The only thing that kept him from doing so was the song coming to an end and everybody in the bar clapping before the orchestra would start playing another piece. Eugene blinked and turned his head, leaving the pipe on the ashtray for a second and clapping. Merriell looked up and then at the stage. He brought his hand back, scratching the back of his neck. The singer crouched and took a sip of her drink during those seconds when her voice wasn't needed. She cleared her throat and approached the mic to sing another. And then another and another until the bar would close for the night.

_See the pyramids along the Nile... Watch the Sun rise on a tropic isle..._

Her beautiful voice and the fact that he heard that song once or twice on the radio didn't keep his eyes from Eugene more than a few seconds. No one was enough of a distraction if the boy was around. The redhead was cleaning his pipe, as quick as he could be.

_Just remember, darling, all the while..._

“Let's talk outside, alright?” Eugene was already standing up. “I... I can't hear you over the music.” He could. But he didn't want anyone else to hear or to see what would happen next. He wanted the certainty that such moment was theirs. Theirs and no one else's.

_You belong to me._

Merriell nodded and, as he had been during this whole trip, he followed Eugene outside the bar. They where alone in that corridor and the music, while muffled in the background, wasn't enough of a distraction, just a beautiful melody that would bring this memory to both of their minds each time they would hear it play after tonight.

Eugene leaned against the wall and Merriell stood there, in front of him, with big eyes and a question under his tongue. One Eugene already heard and accepted, even if he didn't get to voice it out loud.

“Say... Say that again?” he swallowed, desperate to hear it once more. For all those nights missing him. For all those lost years. For them to become nothing until a forgotten pain. For him to get over it and forgive him entirely.

“Can I go with you?” Merriell wouldn't let anything stand in their way. If he had to repeat himself to convince Eugene, he would do so. “I wanna be where you are. I wanna go where you go. I wanna be with you. Know that time is not against us, but giving us the chance to experience more than we lived back there.” he licked his lips. His mouth was dry and his throat felt like it was closing, but he kept talking. He had to. He _wanted_ to. “I wanna to see you in times of peace. If you have to travel, I wanna travel with you. If you are gonna stay in Philly, then I'll move there with you.”

“You don't have to adapt to my life, Snaf.” Eugene whispered, almost coyly.

“I don't care. We can figure that out later.” he shook his head. Details weren't important. And he was pretty sure that Roe and Babe would help him find a good job if he moved there from Louisana. Lou would be sad for a while, but she had her family. She had a husband, a daughter, a mother-in-law, a sister and a brother. She didn't need him anymore.

“And you hate travelling by train or boat.” Eugene added, biting his lower lip and smiling slightly. “That might happen again... _Repeatedly_.”

“I'll get used to it.” he was willing to find a way. “The only thing I know is... That this time I ain't leavin' without you.”

That made Eugene sigh like he was in a dream. Like this was the perfect situation and something he pictured Merriell saying when he missed him the most. He loved him. He loved him and he forgave him and not even his pride or his fears could stand in the way, anymore. He had him back and Eugene welcomed him with loving arms and desperate hands as those landed over Merriell's shirt, pulling him closer.

Merriell furrowed his eyebrows and closed his eyes when he felt Eugene's lips on his own. It wasn't brief or desperate like the ones they shared after the redhead woke up from his nightmare. This was entirely different, way more similar to the ones they shared before they arrived to San Diego. This kiss held conviction and happiness, because he felt Eugene smiling against his mouth. He made him as happy as he could be.

He sighed and wrapped his arms tightly around the taller man and tilted his head to the side, feeling something deep inside of him finally restoring. He was almost six years younger but this time without the doubt or the fear of being convinced that he wasn't enough for Eugene. He was. He told him so. He loved him and that was enough. He could make him happy, be there when he would need him, soothe him when he felt anxious, protect him if he ever needed it and become the most loyal company Eugene could keep.

_I'll be so alone without you..._

And Eugene... He couldn't be happier. He hasn't been this happy for a very long time. _Ah!_ Maybe his father was right from the very beginning. But he wanted to believe that now it was the right time for them. He didn't want to think they wasted time. Eugene wasn't okay. He couldn't offer him a good life when he was so lost. And they couldn't possibly start their romance under his parents' roof. It would had been... uncomfortable at best. Now Eugene had a purpose. He was an independent man. And he could offer his best to Merriell, who was currently holding onto him like he was dear life.

_Maybe you'll be lonesome too... and blue..._

“This is a yes?” he asked, breaking the kiss abruptly, just to regret and interrupting Eugene with more kisses when he attempted to answer. “Can I go with you?”

“ _Yes_. Yes, of course. But you can't leave as soon as I fall asleep.” Eugene teased, biting the corner of his lips, trying to make his smile smaller and _failing_. Oh, _bliss_ , such a beautiful feeling!

“I think I learned my lesson.” Merriell shook his head before he continued to steal as many kisses from Eugene's lips as he could.

And finally, both of them would get what they so desperately craved: each other. It was about time to live their story during times of peace. Without any more fears or insecurities.

Everything was now _forgiven_.

*** * ***

Ahkmenrah's eyes were still as eager as they were when he crossed the threshold of Aaru. The deities kept welcoming him: Babi, Ptah, Horus and even Ra himself greeted him like their most expected guest. He could finally hear them again and he knew, for sure, that he wasn't alone. But... But even in the most magical place known to man, it was Leonellus the only one he could think about.

The reeds were never-ending. They would provide the harvest that would always satisfy any of their needs. They would never long for anything, times would be prosper and happy. And yet, no fertile land could compare to Leonellus and his company. The Roman boy became the only thing he needed to be happy.

“Where is he?” Ahkmenrah finally pleaded. “Please, please, tell me you took care of him.”

For a second he couldn't hear them anymore.

He only felt something soft and warm touching his ankle. When Pharaoh looked down, he saw Niveus, sitting and looking up at him before he rubbed his head against his shin and meowed, greeting him. Ahkmenrah gasped and crouched, caressing his back. The tabby cat accepted his affection gladly and purred.

 _We should have protected him better_ , confessed Khonsu. It wasn't likely for the Gods to accept they had been wrong. _But he offered his heart to me and therefore, he belongs by your side. He's kind and honest, Anubis agreed with us when he weighed his heart_.

Ahkmenrah breathed nervously and slowly stood up once again as Niveus turned around and started running among the reeds. Ater joined them and meowed, walking around Ahkmenrah and leading him along Niveus as they once did. He followed them; his legs were shaking.

 _I couldn't let him get lost through the night_ , Khepri agreed with Khonsu. _His chest was shining, he died thinking he would never see you again. We couldn't let that happen and you asked for me to protect him. We could never deny you anything_.

The Gods loved him, but not more than Ahkmenrah loved Leonellus. His heart was pouding on his chest as he kept running, following both cats. But then, Pharaoh stopped, abruptly.

Leonellus stood up, with a reed basket on his arm, after he collected everything he needed. No master obeyed him to do so, and he didn't have to ask for permission. Everything was there for him to take, just like a free man would. He smiled down at Rubra, who kept playing at his feet, pocking the leather of his sandals and meowing for his attention.

 _Sekhmet loves him. She takes care of him like he was her little cub_ , Hathor explained. _Such devotion she has for that boy_.

There couldn't be a more beautiful sight than seeing your beloved one in paradise. There couldn't be no greater joy than knowing you'd be together for the rest of eternity in a land where you'd never long or crave for anything.

He looked exactly how he remembered him: beautiful and young. Wearing his red tunic and the green sash drapped across his chest, like he was pretending to be a freedman from Rome. His skin was pale and wouldn't redden under the Sun, this time. Nor it would make him faint. This land would never attack him, would never cause him any harm. The Sun would always be gentle with him, for he deserved to be there. For being honest and kind.

 _Congratulations_ , Hathor whispered as Ahkmenrah felt her kissing his cheek.

Then, he felt his own tears streaming down his face. _Oh, Gods, thank you, thank you, thank you_.

Ahkmenrah could only stand there as the two brothers reached their sister and began playing with her. That made Leonellus smile and finally look up. It was then when he saw Ahkmenrah. He blinked and parted his lips. Ahkmenrah was even breathless and could only react when he saw Leonellus dropping the basket he carried and start running towards him. When he tried to do the same, he noticed that his legs were as weak as they could be. His knees budged before Ahkmenrah could reach Leonellus and he collapsed as soon as the Roman wrapped his arms around him, tightly, joining him on the ground.

Pharaoh fisted his clothes, desperate for his scent. How much he missed that! Feeling his skin and his hair, the warmth of his body, seeing his beautiful face and eyes. Leonellus thanked the Gods out loud, who spoke to him, as well. They rewarded him for his patience and resilience; both during life and after it.

Since this was his most desired wish —perhaps the only one he ever had—, Leonellus leaned back and cupped Ahkmenrah's face, seeing him crying and desperately trying to keep him as close as before. He caressed his face, marvelled. He was not a mirage, was he? It was not his mind playing tricks on him, again. When Leonellus gasped, his eyes welling up with tears, Ahkmenrah looked at him.

“I'm s-so sorry.” he whimpered. “I never meant... It was not my intention to h—”

Leonellus hushed him tenderly and denied. He didn't betray him, disappoint him or hurt him. _Never_. It was the ones that were around him who did. Leonellus would never blame him for their misfortune. Not when they were allowed to have this: as much as a man could ever desire.

The Roman smiled sweetly and wiped Ahkmenrah's tears, ignoring his own. “The Sun rises; you are back in my arms.”

It didn't matter that the Sun was beautiful and glowing in Aaru. Leonellus could only describe his life since Ahkmenrah was taken away from him as the night that never ended. It was Ahkmenrah that one that made gave Ra the strength to become the most beautiful and cherished element of their culture. It was Ahkmenrah the reason that days began and ended, for he gave them meaning.

Pharaoh couldn't help himself anymore and threw himself over Leonellus, kissing him with such passion, that he even made the both of them fall backwards. The reeds were soft and almost like a pillow under Leonellus back, who kissed him back and squeezed and caressed his arms and bracelets.

_At last...!_

“My love, my treasure, my Leonellus.” he gasped, pressing his forehead against his after the kiss. The redhead licked his lips and touched the tip of his nose with his own. “How much I missed you. How many things I want to share with you. The things I've seen...!”

Leonellus squeezed his wrists as Ahkmenrah caressed his hair and face. “I'm sure, but all of that can wait.” They had all the time in the world. “I'm not the only one who has been waiting to see you.” he opened his green eyes and smiled at him.

“...Who else?” Ahkmenrah whispered, leaning over his forearms, looking around.

“Who else could it be?” he asked before he pointed ahead them.

Not very far from them stood a beautiful edifice, of marble and gold. There stood two proud figures: his parents. Over his father's shoulder stood Idu, happy as he could be and as he was before he disappeared. Pharaoh blinked and a couple of tears more fell from his eyes as he sat down over his ankles, staring at them. No one was left behind.

Leonellus sat up and kissed his cheek and whispered: “Welcome home.” And then he helped him to stand up and held his hand, taking him back to his family.

Ahkmenrah was returned everything and everyone that was taken away from him.

It was only _fair_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Beginning inspired by text “The Will of Naunakht”. 
> 
> 2 The High Priest of Ptah was sometimes referred to as "The Greatest of the Directors of Craftsmanship" (wr-ḫrp-ḥmwt). This title refers to Ptah as the patron god of the craftsmen. Source: Wikipedia.
> 
> 3 The canopic jars were four in number, each for the safekeeping of particular human organs: the stomach, intestines, lungs, and liver, all of which, it was believed, would be needed in the afterlife. There was no jar for the heart: the Egyptians believed it to be the seat of the soul, and so it was left inside the body. By the late Eighteenth dynasty canopic jars had come to feature the four sons of Horus, who were also the gods of the cardinal compass points. Each god was responsible for protecting a particular organ and was himself protected by a companion goddess. They were:  
> -Hapi, the baboon-headed god representing the North, whose jar contained the lungs and was protected by the goddess Nephthys. Hapi is often used interchangeably with the Nile god Hapi, though they are actually different gods.  
> -Duamutef, the jackal-headed god representing the East, whose jar contained the stomach and was protected by the goddess Neith  
> -Imsety, the human-headed god representing the South, whose jar contained the liver and was protected by the goddess Isis  
> -Qebehsenuef, the falcon-headed god representing the West, whose jar contained the intestines and was protected by the goddess Serqet. Source: Wikipedia
> 
> 4 Famous quote by the British Egyptologist Howard Carter when Tutankhamun's tomb was discovered.
> 
> 5 Animal mummification was common in ancient Egypt. They mummified various animals. It was an enormous part of Egyptian culture, not only in their role as food and pets, but also for religious reasons. They were typically mummified for four main purposes—to allow beloved pets to go on to the afterlife, to provide food in the afterlife, to act as offerings to a particular god, and because some were seen as physical manifestations of specific deities that the Egyptians worshipped. Bast, the cat goddess is an example of one such deity. Thousands of cat mummies have been found at the catacombs of Saqqara. During mummification, the cat bodies would be dried and filled with soil, sand or some other kind of packing material. They were either positioned with their limbs folded closely to their bodies or in a sitting, lifelike position. The wrapping was usually completed through intricate, geometric patterns. Source: Wikipedia


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